Where to Begin
by Zero to Hero
Summary: [Complete] 16 year old Arnold gets stuck helping with Helga's beauty pageant, but as he realizes his true feelings for her, he also realizes Helga doesn't feel the same way. H & A
1. Dandy Life

Authors Note: My first story, so please bear with me.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold! I wish I did, and I wish that there was a Jungle Movie, but you can't always get what you want.

Where to Begin

Chapter 1 – Dandy Life

                Arnold kept his focus on the opponent in front of him. He was trying to read the eyes, the hips. He was exhausted, having played at full speed for nearly an hour in 23° weather. He kept telling himself to stay focused. He could not afford to give up another basket. Gerald and he were barely winning, 47-45, and he was guarding one of the best three-point shooters at West Hillwood High. He gritted his teeth and followed the bouncing ball, careful to not let a shoot get off.

                "Arnold! Stop ball already!" Gerald shouted. He was currently guarding Stinky down at the post, which was difficult because Stinky stood 6'8'' to Gerald's 6'4''. "I can't hold him much longer!"

                "That's for damn sure!" Stinky yelled. "Shoot it or pass it already!"

                Arnold was distracted by this comment for a split second, and Stinky's teammate took advantage of Arnold's lack of concentration, since he was worried about Gerald, and drained a three from the top of the key. Arnold groaned as Gerald grabbed the ball and passed it inbounds to Arnold. "Nice job, football head. I believe that Stinky and I have just taken the lead."

                Arnold glared at the figure who was waiting for him at half court. He still did not understand how Helga G. Pataki had gotten so good at basketball. Though it was slightly sexist, he knew that boys where supposed to be stronger then girls at their age, but Helga had never followed gender rules. Though she did not stand a chance against him inside, she normally schooled him out on the perimeter. In fact, that was the seventh trey she made on him. "Let's see if you are better at offense then you are at defense, not that that should be hard to top."

                Arnold's eyes narrowed even more as he dribbled up the court. They followed Gerald as he cut deep towards the basket and then popped back out. _Perfect_, Arnold thought, and passed the ball to his right. A split second before the ball left his hand, though, he realized that Helga had read his pass. He watched her intercept the ball and started to run and stop her. Unfortunately, Helga was not only a better shooter from beyond the arc then him, but she was faster then him. He groaned as she made a left-hand lay-up. "I guess not," she said, shoving the ball into his chest. She looked at her watch. "Stinky, it's five till five. You better get going."

                "Thanks, Helga. Good game, guys. I'll see you at school tomorrow. Maybe next week you can actually give me and Helga a challenge."

                "Oh, don't worry, we will," Gerald grumbled. "At least when Arnold remembers how to play basketball."

                Arnold sighed. "See you, Stinky."      

                "Bye, Stinky," Helga called as she picked up a towel from her bag and whipped her face. She tucked a few loose strands of her light blonde hair back into her messy ponytail. "You guys are really loosing your touch. We've beaten you for the past three Sundays."

                "I know, I KNOW!" Gerald grumbled. The four of them have spent every Sunday since seventh grade playing basketball at the outdoor courts beside West Hillwood High, their high school, and now as juniors were all on their varsity teams. Gerald ran a hand through his hair, which was now much shorter then it had been as a child. He turned to her. "What the heck is up with you lately? You never miss a damn thing."

                She shrugged. "Face it, tall hair boy." Gerald grimaced at Helga's childhood nickname for him, which didn't fit his cropped hair anymore. "I'm just better then you guys."

                "Yeah, right. Arnold and I are just having a bad week, er, month. We'll win next week."

                "Sure."

                Arnold smiled. Helga and Gerald got along much better these days, and there were many reasons behind this change. The first and probably most startling was that their first day in junior high Helga G. Pataki, and her army of Old Betsy and the Five Avengers (A/N, I love the fact that Helga only has FOUR fingers on each hand) woke up and decided to be nice. Not just for a day, or a week, but mostly for the next five years. In fact, the only time glimpses of the old Helga surface was times like this, when she was playing sports. Another reason was that that same year Helga decided that she loved basketball, and Gerald was the best at it, so everyday after school she challenged him to a game of two on two, Stinky and Helga verses Gerald and Arnold. Slowly the two began to develop mutual respect for each other, and that developed into their own weird relationship. They tolerated and respected each other. Also, playing against boys did wonders for Helga, and she soon became the best girl player in the neighborhood, and made the varsity team as a freshman. The final reason was that Helga, with the help of Arnold, finally fixed Phoebe and Gerald up, and the two had just celebrated their two and a half year anniversary. Yes, even Gerald had to admit that Helga was not so bad anymore. "Trust us, Helga, next week the game is ours," Arnold said.

                Helga smiled at him. "Whatever gets you through the day." She pulled her sweatshirt over her head. The cold was finally getting to her. She looked at Gerald. "Aren't you supposed to meet Phoebe at the library at five?"

                Gerald's eyes grew wide. "Uh, I'll see you guys later." He grabbed his backpack and ran off towards the library.

                Helga laughed. "What would he do without us?"

                Arnold laughed with her. It was hard to believe that this was the same Helga who was his bully back at P.S. 118. Not only did she act different, she looked different. Big Bob Pataki's features had softened on her face over the years, and Miriam's more delicate features surfaced. The contrasts made Helga one of the most beautiful girls he knew. Gone was the unibrow, and the pink bow rarely sat atop her golden hair. She was shorter then him now, standing 5'8'' to his barely 6'0'' (when he said barely, he meant barely, but at least he could boast he was six foot), but she was extremely toned, all muscle and still incredibly strong for a 16 year-old girl, especially since her frame was slightly narrow. She had grown from a very misunderstood, burly bully to a beautiful young woman who was one of his closes friends, though she was still a bit misunderstood to most. His smile widened at that thought. Who would have known that Helga would become one of his closest friends? She turned to him. "Ready to go?"

                He nodded and grabbed his stuff. He was still hot from the game and shoved his sweatshirt into his bag. She looked at him funny as she handed him a bottled water. "You aren't cold?" He shook his head. She rolled her eyes. "Lord, it's January in Washington and the boy chooses to run around outside in a pair of shorts and a cut-off tee just so he can look tough in front of a girl."

                He scoffed. "I am not trying to look tough in front of you, Helga, and you have shorts on too."

                "At least I have enough sense to put a sweatshirt on." She grinned evilly. "And besides, if you had these legs, wouldn't you show them off?"

                He choked on his water. Yes, Helga did have amazing legs, but they were _Helga's_, his best friend, legs. He never thought of her like that. "Gross, Helga," he said as she laughed loudly.

                "It's okay, Arnold," she said as she climbed her stoop to her door. "I don't want you looking at my legs anyways. I'll see you tomorrow."

                "Right. Bye, Helga."

                "Bye. And, Arnold?"

                "Yeah?"

                "You really need to work on your defense before the Concordia game."

                He sighed. "I know, I know."

                She nodded and went inside. He stared at her door for a second, and then proceeded home. Sunset Arms had not changed much since fourth grade. The regulars were still there, plus two new tenants, Mrs. Soo-Yung Li, a widow who had formed somewhat of a close relationship with Mr. Hyunh, and Mr. Stephan Wendell, a crabby, staving artist who spent most of his day cooped up in his room.  Still, home was home for Arnold. He opened the door and the same familiar herd of various animals, led by Abner, ran out. He laughed slightly and headed upstairs.

                He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror in the hallway. He looked at his reflection and smiled. He wasn't that good-looking, but he was decent. He had finally grown properly into his football shaped head. The little blue hat was gone, now resting beside a picture of his parents and his infant self on a shelf beside his bed. He still had the same unruly blond hair, but it worked for him. He was also still a bit on the skinny side, but he was still relatively solid.

                After a quick shower he went upstairs to his room. As logged on to his computer and smiled at the picture of Gerald, Phoebe, Rhonda, Stinky, Harold, Sid, Lorenzo, Helga, and himself at Dino Land from the last summer. They had decided to spend a whole day doing things they loved as children. Helga even acted mean and Rhonda spent the day pointing out what was wrong with everyone's outfits. He smiled. That had been one of the greatest days of his life. He had to admit, as crazy as things got, he was lucky to be surround by people who cared so much about him.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤ 

                "Night, Shortman!"

                "Good night, Grandpa," Arnold called as he climbed the stairs up to his room in the attic. He flopped onto his bed and turned the television on, but turned it off after flipping through the stations and realizing that there really isn't anything on television at eleven on Sundays. He sighed and stared at the stars through his skylight. _I don't want to go to sleep, but I have nothing else to do_, he thought. He rolled over and stared at the wonders of his bookcase. He pulled out his sophomore yearbook since he had nothing else to do. He opened it up to the front page. There was Helga and the rest of her basketball team after they were crowned regional champs. He smiled and turned the pages. He stopped at the Homecoming spread and stared at the picture of Lila Sawyer and Luke Harrington with loathing. He groaned. Why was I so stupid to think that she would like me? And why did I continue to like her? 

                That whole drama had started around Christmas of last year, but in reality it had started years before. Arnold's crush on Lila had continued into junior high, but while Arnold remained everyone's favorite optimistic football head, Lila had developed into a bitch that no one could have foreseen back at P.S. 118. In sixth grade, Lila's father had remarried to a very lovely but extremely cold woman who was the manager of a department store. Lila did not really like her that much, at least not until her stepmother inherited a very large sum of money from a great uncle before freshman year. Her family moved out of the slums of the city and into a penthouse on the upper side, and in effort to make up for past years of poverty, Lila's father bought her everything in sight, no matter how much it cost. Lila arrived at West Hillwood High freshman year wealthier and better dressed than every other girl in their grade, including Rhonda (which did not make Miss Lloyd happy in the least bit). Lila greatly enjoyed her newfound popularity, and began dating upper classmen. Arnold had tried to warn the naïve girl exactly why the upper classmen wanted to date her, and Helga even backed him up (which confused Arnold at the time. He asked Helga why after years of disliking Lila why she would try to help the girl, and Helga simply said that they would eat Lila alive), but Lila did whatever she wanted, and by April she was convinced that she was pregnant (not from the same boy, a different one). She was not, and the scare did not stop her from dating and sleeping with other boys.

                By the start of sophomore year, Arnold for some odd reason still could not see what Lila had become, which was a shallow, narcissistic bitch who had slept with numerous people, no one really knew the correct number, they had lost count. She started dating Luke and by Christmas she had discovered that she might be pregnant again. Lila had tried to tell Luke, but he immediately dumped her because he did not want the kid and he was certain that the kid was not his (Lila had never commented on this accusation). Lila seemed to have no one to turn to because she was afraid to tell her father and stepmother, and her friends were busy gossiping and spreading nasty rumors about her, so naturally she sought out Arnold, who still had a knack for helping everyone with their problems and giving great advice. 

                Naturally, Lila used her charms to get Arnold to really help her, to take her to the clinic and things like that, and led the poor boy into thinking that she actually had a thing for him. She had managed to completely fool Arnold into believing that she was still the "ever so" sweet little girl that he had "like liked" back at P.S. 118. However, and soon as she got the results that she was not pregnant, she dropped Arnold without looking back and began dating Daren Battier, a senior. Arnold had a hallow victory because Daren had broken up with Lila when he started school at Washington University. Crushed, Lila had the audacity to run back to Arnold's shoulder, but for once Arnold refused to help her.

                Arnold groaned again thinking of that horrible experience. The worst part of the matter was that Helga had warned him of everything during the ordeal. She knew what Lila was going to do, and repeatedly told Arnold, but he refused to listen; he was too happy to be with his dream girl to even consider that she was just using him. "Some dream girl," he said out loud. Helga, however, was still there for him when Lila left, just as she had always been, just like when he found out the truth about his parents.

                He turned the page and saw a picture of Gerald and Phoebe at the Winter Formal. He smiled. Gerald Johanssen and Phoebe Hyerdahl were the perfect couple and now have been dating for two and a half years. _Took them long enough_, Arnold thought. Everyone had known back at P.S. 118 that those two would get together. Arnold sighed. He could only hope that he would find somebody that would make him feel the way those two felt. _Yeah right. Who am I going to find like that?_ he thought as he went to sleep.

A/N: That's all for now. Hopefully it is not too confusing, but I tried to give you a bit of background information before the plot really gets started next chapter. Later days and peace in the Middle East.


	2. Disturbing Revelations

A/N: Another day, another chapter . . . not much, but I am working hard on this story and another one that I hope to be posting soon.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold!

Where to Begin

Chapter 2 – Disturbing Revelations

                "Arnold? Arnold. HEY ARNOLD!"

                Arnold snapped out of his reverie. He had been picturing the Concordia game, and he had made the winning shot for a change. He sighed. He never seemed to get to be the hero in a game. "Yeah?" Arnold looked into a pair of crystal blue eyes. "What is it, Lila?"

                She tossed her hair. "What did you get for number three?"

                Arnold rolled his eyes. _What did I ever see in her?_ he thought. As much as he hated to admit it, he had spent most of the years from fourth grade to his sophomore year chasing after Lila, trying to get her to "like like" him. (he shuddered at the thought of that phrase). Helga was not the only one who had changed. Lila was now one of the most popular girls in school, and though she was in most of the same AP classes as him, she was an airhead. She was also an egotistical bitch who only cared about herself. Arnold had finally realized she was not the same innocent girl he had liked in grade school last year when she had her second pregnancy scare. She had turned to Arnold in her time of need, but as soon as she knew it was a false alarm, she was back to sleeping with the captain of the football team. She did not really care if the guy liked her or not (or if she liked him for that matter; she usually cheated on her boyfriends), just as long as she looked good she was happy. Yes, the only time Lila gave Arnold the time of day was when she needed something, such as the answer to a question on an English assignment. "I don't know," he said, not really in the mood to spoon-feed her.

                "C'mon, Arnold. I would appreciate it ever so much," she said, tilting her head slightly to give the impression that he was the only one in the world.

                Arnold's eyes narrowed slightly. Sorry Lila, that does not work anymore. And why does she always have to put "ever" in every sentence! He groaned inwardly. She won't stop bothering me until I help her. He sighed. "Caesar didn't like Cassius because he though too much. These feelings are merited, or justified," he explained, since she did not understand the question, "because Cassius is plotting to assassinate Caesar."

                She nodded. "I see. Thank you ever so much." Arnold groaned, this time audible, but Lila was busy talking to Mandy, her best friend who was a carbon copy of her. Not only was he stuck reading _The Tragedy of Julius Caesar_ in his English class, he was stick sitting in the back against the wall, Brainy in front of him and Lila to his right. Brainy really was not that bad, but he never talked, he just breathed. Arnold was a man alone on an island. Helga, Phoebe, and Gerald were on the other side of the room. He sighed and looked at his watch. Only a couple of minutes left, then I'll be free. He smiled. His coach was out of town so they had a day off from practice, and he was going to enjoy his free afternoon. Arnold began planning his spare time when the end of the day announcements came on the P.A. system. After the general crap that was mentioned everyday, the vice principal began talking about the Miss Hillwood Pageant.

                "As you all have heard by now, the annual Miss Hillwood Pageant is quickly approaching, and we are honored this year because not just one, but two of our students have been invited to represent our school in this prestigious event—"a snort escaped from the other side of the room; Arnold guessed it was Helga because she had never cared for the pageant, since Olga had won it twelve years ago. "The students are juniors Lila Sawyer."Arnold rolled his eyes as Lila actually stood up and bowed as her name was announced. "No need to be modest," he mumbled as the group of students around her burst into applause.  "And Helga Pataki," the vice principal finished. Twenty-one pairs of eyes turned towards Helga, who looked like she was about to faint. "Would Lila, Helga, and fellow junior Arnold _static_ please report to the main office after school. Have a good day."

                No one noticed that Arnold's name was read aloud with the names of the contestants, which he was thankful for. Everyone's attention was on Helga. "Congratulations, Helga," Phoebe finally said. Helga remained speechless. Arnold walked across the room in an effort to catch Helga's attention, but she continued to stare off into space.

                The bell rang and everyone filed out of the classroom, including the teacher, and only Lila, Arnold, Gerald, Phoebe, and Helga remained. "You! How can you be in this?" Lila cried as she ran out of the room. The other four ignored her and stared at Helga. After a moment of awkward silence, Phoebe whispered, "I think you need to go to the office. It's probably best to get it over with as quickly as possible."

                "Uh-huh," Helga managed to say. Phoebe hugged Helga quickly and pulled Gerald's arm. "I'll see you later, Helga. Bye, Arnold."

                "I can't believe it. Helga, in that pageant. HELGA!" Gerald said shaking his head as his left.

                "Shut up, Gerald." Phoebe said, pulling Gerald harder. Arnold turned to Helga. "I think we have to go to the office."

                She looked up at him, her brown eyes spacey with disbelief. "Uh-huh." The two walked to the office in silence, but other students came up and congratulated Helga, who smiled slightly at them in her dazed state. Arnold quickly led her to the office to try to spare her from her peers. She was still out of it.

                "Helga, dear," Ms. Stanely, one of the schools guidance councilors said as she hugged the girl. "Congratulations!" Mr. Isaac, the vice principal, exclaimed as he shook her hand. "Miss Pataki, we are proud to have such a talented student as yourself representing our school." Arnold noticed that Lila was standing behind the two, glaring at Helga. If looks could kill, Helga would be six feet under in a second. She finally managed to form words. "Thank you."

                Mr. Isaac went into long and boring detail about the pageant and what a great honor this was for the two of them. After giving the two girls information about the pageant, he left on more important business, which was watching the detentionees like a hawk. Mrs. Stanely continued on, and after a total of fifteen minutes, dismissed the girls. Lila bolted to the door, but Helga waited for Arnold. "Uh, Ms. Stanely, why did you call me down here?" he asked.

                She turned to him. "Oh, Arnold, I forgot you were here." He rolled his eyes. What else did he expect from a loony like her?  "I wanted to tell you that I volunteered you to help with the pageant."

                "WHAT?"

                "Well, it is tradition that students from the involved high schools help design the set and various other things. It would look really good on college applications, and we could really use a creative and artistic person like yourself on board for the planning process."

                "But, Ms. Stanely, I hardly have enough time in the day for basketball and school work. How am I supposed to do this too?"

            She smiled at him. "I'm sure you will find a way. At least think about it. We are counting on you." 

            "Uh, Ms. Stanely?"

            "Yes, Helga, dear," Ms. Stanely said sweetly. Arnold knew why. For the past three years, Ms. Stanely had been trying to get Helga to open up about her family life, especially since last year Big Bob Pataki had been investigated for neglecting to pay taxes. Helga had repeatedly told her that she had her own real psychiatrist, but Ms. Stanely still had not given up.

            "Do I have to be in the pageant?" she asked. Ms. Stanely looked as if Helga suggested that the three of them should abandon everything and become fisherman in the Red Sea. "I mean, I have a lot to do, with my job and basketball and school and everything else. It is just too much," she stammered. No, Arnold thought, you just don't want to be in the stupid thing.

                "Miss Pataki, it is an honor to be invited to compete in such an esteemed event. Most girls would kill to be involved in the Miss Hillwood Pageant," she said, as if Helga should be crying hysterically for being chosen.

                "Well, they can come and kill me," Helga mumbled. Ms. Stanely continued on as if she didn't hear Helga, but Arnold had a feeling that she did. "Now Miss Pataki, I think that you will be a fine representative of this school and that you will make yourself, your school, and your parents very proud."

                Helga snorted at the last part. Miriam and Bob Pataki had not paid much attention to Helga in recent years, never mind being proud of her. That was for the elder Pataki daughter only. "Right. Bob and Miriam will be ready and waiting to throw me my own parade."

                Ms. Stanely's face lit up and she grasped Helga's hands, much to Helga's disgust, which was plainly displayed on her face. "Oh, I am so glad you are starting to look forward to this, Helga. I just know you will do a wonderful job." She glanced at her watch. "Oops, I got to go. I'll see you two tomorrow. Especially you, Helga." She rushed off.

                Helga shook her head. "Some guidance councilor. She didn't even listen to us. And just what has that lady been smoking?"

                Arnold leaned against the wall and groaned. "Whatever it is, I don't want any of it. And she's counting on me? What a loud of crap. Now I have to go back and tell her I want out, and she's going to be all upset because for some odd reason this means a lot to her."

                Helga stared at him, her mouth hanging open. "You! What about me! I have to be in the damn pageant! Me! In a beauty pageant! And I can't back out of it!"

                Arnold crossed his arms. "Well, I am. There is no way I am doing for that nutcase."

                Helga looked at him, her eyes pleading. "Well, if you won't do it for her, do it for me. Please, Arnold, I'll die if I am with all those girls constantly. I'll be surrounded by a bunch of Lila clones!" She put her head in her hands. "I can't believe I am in this stupid thing," she said, her words muffled by her hands. She ran her hands through her hair and looked up at him. "Please, Arnold, I'm begging you."

                He stared into her dark eyes. He felt bad for her. After all, this was her worst nightmare, and she could not back out of it. He sighed. Helga had been there for him before, and he would be here for her now. "Fine, I'll do it for you. But you owe me big time."

                "I know." She smiled. "You will be getting a really nice birthday gift this year. I promise," she said as they finally walked to their lockers. Helga's was two down from his. "Shit! I'm late for practice! That damn airhead kept us for nearly a half hour, and I still have to change!" She grabbed her practice bag and waved good-bye to him. "Thank you so much, Arnold. I'll call you tonight," she said as she ran to the gym.

                "Bye, Helga." He sighed dejectedly. And to think this day had held so much promise.

A/N: That's all for now. Chapter Three will be up soon (my fingers are crossed). Go Notre Dame and Butler! Later Days.


	3. The Nightmare Begins

A/N: Um, not much to say. So, here's chapter three. It's a bit longer, so enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold.

Where to Begin

Chapter 3 – The Nightmare Begins

                Helga collapsed on her bed, exhausted from the day's events. Practice had been especially tough since it was defense and she had to run thirty laps on the track above the gym because she was late, one for every minute she was late. Actually, she had to sprint. Her legs killed. Defensive drills and thirty laps (which was about two and a half miles) was a lethal combination, and to top the day off, she was in that stupid contest. She picked up the phone and dialed Arnold's number.

                "Hello?" he said, picking up the phone after the second ring.

                "Hey, it's Helga. How was your day off?"

                "Awful. I spent most of it lying in bed with a headache. And there is nothing on television after school."

                "That sucks."

                "Yeah, I guess. So, how are you feeling?"

                She paused. Thankfully one good thing about having to run until you nearly collapse is that it takes your mind off of other things. She had not really thought about the pageant since the meeting with Ms. Stanely. "I don't really know, to be honest. I haven't had a chance to think about it."

                "Because of practice? How did that go?"

                "Ugh. We had defensive drills today. And because I was late I had to run thirty laps. I nearly threw up twice."

                He laughed. "That's the best news I have heard all day."

                "Arnold!"

                "I didn't mean it like that! I mean, that reminds me that I got a day off from that sort of torture."

                "Yeah, yeah, rub it in."

                Arnold laughed a little. "Are you sure you are going to be okay?"

                "Yeah. I have been through worse practices before. I'll be able to walk in a day or two."

                "That's not what I meant."

                "Arnold, give me some credit. I've been in worse situations before and lived to tell the boring tales. I'll manage to survive. The real question is, will any of those bimbos manage to survive?"

                "What does that mean?"

                "It means if they drive me insane, which they will, I might kill one of them. Namely Miss Perfect. Hopefully she's got enough sense to stay away from me." She stopped. "My God, Arnold, there's going to be eighteen more just like her!"

                "Well, if worst comes to worst, murder could a thing or two for your image. You haven't shaken that up for a while now."

                Helga laughed. "Thanks, Arnold. I can see it now. My press statement as they are hauling me off will be, 'Well, my best friend Arnold told me it would be good for my reputation.'"

                Arnold smiled. He had a feeling Helga was going to be all right, that is, as long as she had someone else around. "What time do we have to go to that thing, anyways?" The two had to go to a meeting at the Omni Theater to discuss the pageant and meet the other contestants and tech crew members.

                "We have to be at the theater at six-thirty. I'll drive us there."

                "Great. I can barely wait."

                She laughed. "See ya tomorrow, Football Head."

                He rolled his eyes. "'Night, Helga."

                She sighed as she clicked the phone off. The winner of the Miss Hillwood Pageant received a $10,000 scholarship, which could be used every year for up to six years. It money she needed since she wanted to be free of Bob and Miriam once she graduated, physically, emotionally, and financially; thus she was determined to pay for college on her own. If she had to though to Hell (or in her case, a beauty pageant, laughingly called a display of academic achievement) then so be it.

                The pageant, she supposed, was not that embarrassing. It was one of Hillwood's major events and was very popular. It consisted of an interview, talent competition, and, of course, a final question that was usually answered with something relating to world peace. Basically nothing too challenging, but it was in a month and that was not a lot of time. The interview and the final question she could handle (if she got there, it was only for the top three people) she could handle, but what was she supposed to do for her talent, juggle basketballs?

                Helga pulled her comforter over her head. _Maybe the answer will come in a dream_, she thought. _At least Arnold will be helping me out_. Helga smiled. Though she stopped had loving Arnold as more then a friend in seventh grade, he was still her best friend and a big part of her life. Yes, with Arnold near her, things would be okay.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤ 

                "Hey Arnold! Hey Arnold! Hey Arnold! Hey— "

                Arnold unplugged his alarm clock, smiling at the thought that at sixteen he still used his potato-powered alarm clock (though the potato had been changed a few times over the years). It gave him a feeling of security, that no matter what, some things remain the same. "Morning, Mom. Morning, Dad," he said to the photograph of his mom, his dad, and himself at age one as he got out of bed like he did every morning, a tradition he started in seventh grade after his parents long-time friend, Eduardo, returned from San Lorenzo and ended his hopes of ever seeing his parents again. Eduardo confirmed that Arnold's parents died when their plane crashed during a freak storm on their return flight, and that they received a great burial in thanks for all their help and their sacrifice. Though he was devastated, Arnold found some comfort in finally knowing the truth about his parents and no longer having to live on a false hope. Though he had been able to move on (at least as much as you can move on), he felt closer to his parents when he greeted them every morning and when he bid them goodnight.

                Arnold groaned as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was not looking forward to school. By now most people would know he was involved in the pageant, and he did not want to think about that they would say to him, especially his teammates. The phone rang as he finished brushing his teeth, and Arnold only needed one guess to answer who was on the phone. He swallowed hard before he picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

                "Arnold? Man, what the hell were you thinking getting mixed up in a thing like this? Do you know what people will say?"

            Arnold sighed. He knew exactly what people would say. Sports and theater (he supposed this was a type of theater) didn't exactly go together at West Hillwood High. Jocks normally avoided the theater students (or was it vice versa?). Basically, the two did not mix. Separately they were fine, but when mixed can sometimes cause other people to doubt one's sexuality, and Arnold was not in the mood to deal with teammates who thought he was gay (not that there's anything wrong with that. . .). "Look, Gerald, I didn't have a choice. Well, I might have been able to get out of it, but Helga said she needed me for support and to help her maintain her sanity."

                "The things you do for that girl," Gerald mumbled.

                "Yeah, well, I know what they will say. I'll just rationally explain—"

                "Rationally explain? The kids at our school don't think rationally and don't try to understand anything that even borders it."

                "What do you suggest I do then?

                "I dunno."

                "My point exactly." Arnold sighed. "I know it's lame, but it is my only option," Arnold glanced at his clock. He was running late. "I got to go, Gerald. Meet me at my locker."

                "Right. Good luck, man."

                "Thanks," Arnold said, hanging up the phone. It was going to be a long day.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                "Arnold, you have got to be the luckiest mother-fucker in this whole school."

                A surprised Arnold pulled his head out from his locker and looked at Matt Gordon, an enormous senior wrestler who liked to add a random form of fuck into every sentence. "What?"

                "Arnold, you are fucking clueless, I fucking swear. You get to hang out with not only mother-fucking hot girls, but mother-fucking hot girls with emotional issues."

                "Gordon, this isn't a normal beauty pageant. These girls excel in_ academics_**.**

                "So they're fucking ugly?"

                Arnold was barely able to subdue the urge to shut his head in his locker door. "No, they just aren't as insecure. At least not how _you_ want them to be."

                "Oh. That fucking sucks," he said. Arnold looked for an out. Gerald had left mid-way through the conversation to talk to Phoebe. "At least you get to hang out with Lila Sawyer. Man, that chick will sleep with anybody."

                "I don't usually like to hang around girls like Lila," Arnold said, desperately trying to block out reminders of the year before. "I usually like to make it a little challenging, you know?" he said in an attempt to change the subject.

                "Yeah, I guess. I mean, who hasn't fucked her?" Arnold said nothing, and Gordon continued on. "But you hang out with that Helga chick. She's in it, right? Man, that bitch is fucking hot."

                This one statement sent half a dozen thoughts through Arnold's head in about two seconds: 1) Helga was right, cursing every other word made you sound common. 2) Gordon's a major pig. 3) How dare he talk about Helga like that? 4) He needed to find Helga. 5) Where was Helga? 6) Why did Gordon's comment about Helga make him, a normally calm and easygoing person, want to beat the crap out of him? Yes, it should bother him, because Helga was his best friend, but was it supposed to make him nearly lose all rational thought and want to beat up a kid that was twice his size? Whatever it was, he had to get away and fast. "I have to go," he said, slamming his locker shut, which narrowly missed Gordon's hand. "Watch it, you asshole!" he called after Arnold, who ignored it and searched for Helga.

                "Oof," Arnold muttered as he ran into someone as he turned the corner on his way towards the main doors to look for Helga, knocking him on the ground. "Where's the fire, Football Head?" Helga asked as she helped him up. "Please tell me there is a fire. I could use an excuse to get out of here."

                Arnold smiled at the tall blonde in front of him. Helga was completely predictable, no matter how hard she tried not to be. "Sorry, you're stuck. No fire."

                "Damn," she whispered. She looked disappointed and sadness filled her dark brown eyes. He watched her as they walked to their first class. "Helga, why don't you want to be in the this? I mean, I know you don't like the whole pageant idea, but it is still an honor to be in it. Why do you hate it so much?"

                Helga looked up at him and sighed. She pulled her agenda book out of her bag and pulled out a piece of paper. "This is what Bob gave me this morning when I told him the news," she said as she handed him the paper. Arnold looked at it. The paper was a photocopy of a newspaper article from twelve years ago. The headline read, "Pataki Triumphs Again," and the sub headline said, "West Hillwood High junior wins Miss Hillwood pageant by widest margin ever." A large picture of the elder Pataki daughter was featured with the article. "Olga won it by that much?"

                "Yep."

                "Your dad has copies of his lying around?"

                "Of course. He enlarged and framed the original."

                "So this is why? Because Olga won it?"

                "Yeah, pretty much. I've hated that thing ever since she won it. That and the usual women shouldn't be put on display like that sort of thing, but this pageant doesn't have a swimsuit competition, so it doesn't bother me as much." She took the paper from Arnold and stared at it. "It's just like that stupid spelling bee," she said, causing Arnold to blush slightly, "and other stupid things like that. I have to win it because Olga won it. They're probably planning a way to use this to sell beepers as we speak." She opened the door to their U.S. history class and sat down in her seat. Arnold followed in suit, seating in his seat beside hers near the back. "Arnold, they are expecting me to win. But in reality, even that's not enough. To be noticed, I have to top Olga, which means I have to win by a margin even larger than hers," she finished. 

                Arnold noticed that the paper was becoming wrinkled from Helga's tightening grip. "Helga, I though you said were done trying to impress them, that you were going to live for yourself and yourself only."

                She squirmed in her seat. "Yeah, but," she sighed. "I guess a part of me still hasn't gotten that memo."

                Arnold eyed her carefully, trying to completely absorb everything she was saying and doing. Helga still did not open up that often or easily about these things. "Helga, don't worry about them. Just do it for yourself. Don't tell me you don't want that scholarship money."

                "Arnold, it's not that easy. I can't just ignore them."

                "Sure you can. You ignore what I say a lot, just pretend they're me."

                She smiled slightly. "I don't think I can do that."

                "Why not?"

                "Because for some odd reason, I actually sort of like you."

                "Sort of?" he cried, pretending to be hurt. "Is that all I mean to you?"

                "What? Oh, you thought that I really liked you? Sorry, bucko, but it was all an act," she said, laughing. "Thanks, Arnold. I appreciate it."

                "That's what I am here for."

                She smiled. "What would I do without you?"

                "That's something I don't really like to think about. The things I imagine you would do are too violent and frightening."

                "Shut up," she said as their teacher walked in. Mr. Phegley reminded Arnold of Mr. Potato Head. He had a large, round body, big feet, skinny little arms, large beady eyes, and he was balding. The man was in his early fifties and was extremely boring, though once in a blue moon he stumbled upon something interesting. Arnold listened as Mr. Phegley blandly lectured about something in the Civil War. After fifteen minutes, Arnold gave up on taking notes and began to daydream about the Concordia game again, and he smiled as he again made the buzzer-beating shot.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                "So, Helga, are you feeling more comfortable about being in the pageant?" Phoebe asked during their French III class. They were working on worksheets, or they were supposed to be, but the two girls had finished long before the rest of their classmates, most of whom had stopped working to talk to each other. "I guess. The only reason I am doing it is for the money."

                A loud scoff was uttered from behind Helga. She turned and was only mildly surprised to discover that Lila and her friend Jana had been eavesdropping on her and Phoebe. "Is there something you want to say to me, or do you always listen to other people's conversations and then act like they are beneath you?"

                Lila wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I think its wrong to be in the pageant just for the money," she said in a haughty voice. It was Helga's turned to scoff. "Like you are doing this because you care about representing our school. And besides, I am not choosing to be in it, I was forced into it."

                Lila glared at Helga. "Well, you shouldn't really worry about it, because I am going to win, and even if for some crazy reason I don't, you still won't get the scholarship. Face it, Helga. It will be a cold day in Hell before _you_ win.

                "According to Dante, Hell is cold," Helga retorted. She eyed Lila carefully. "Why do you even want the scholarship? Your daddy and step-mommy can easily pay for your school no matter where you go."

                Lila smirked. "I never turned down money when it is just handed to me, and this is practically is. And besides, my parents can give me the extra $10,000 they save each year for clothes, vacations, and other various things."

                "Do you ever stop thinking so selfishly?"

                Lila sneered. "You're not exactly dirt poor either."

                "I have my reasons for needing the money," Helga said coldy.

                "And I have mine." The two girls continued to glare at each other, and then Lila turned away and began talking about a new purse she had just bought ("Real Italian leather, the very best,").

                Phoebe, who had been listening to the argument silently, finally spoke, choosing her words carefully so Helga would calm down and refrain from snapping at her. "Are you ready for your game against Lincoln High School on Friday?" she asked cautiously.

                "Ugh," Helga muttered, running her hands through her blonde hair, a sign she was frustrated. "Lincoln is the worst team we play, but coach is acting like we are playing East Hillwood." East Hillwood was West Hillwood's biggest rival in all sports. "Are you coming?" she asked.

                "I wouldn't miss it, Helga," Phoebe said, causing Helga to beam slightly. Phoebe usually made it to every game to support her best friend. "Gerald's taking me, and Arnold's coming with us." Helga beamed even brighter. She loved it when her friends were at her games supporting her. It made her play better. "Thanks, Pheebs," she said. Now she just had to find a way to make it through the week.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                Helga finished towel drying her hair. She had just taken a quick shower after her practice and had thrown on a pair of sweats and a Washington University hooded sweatshirt. Content with her reflection in the mirror, she shoved her stuff into her practice bag and left her locker room to go meet Arnold at his. She glanced at her watch. It was already 6:15. "Shit," she muttered as she jogged across the gym. She was about to bang on the boy's locker room door when it suddenly opened, and she barely stopped herself from pounding the exiting boy in the chin. "Geez, Pataki, a little late to be looking for people to beat up, don't you think?"

                Helga was momentarily speechless. Jake Richardson, the very attractive senior who was also the starting shooting guard for the varsity team, was grinning at her. She quickly recovered. "I always say there is no time like the present."

                He laughed. "I agree. What are you doing over here?"

                "Waiting for Arnold." He looked at her questioningly, so she continued. "He got roped into helping out with the pageant so I am driving him over to the theater," she said, trying not to sound like a dork.

                Jake nodded and yelled into the locker room, "Hey Arnold! Helga's waiting." He smiled at her. "You know, Helga, I'm kind of jealous of Arnold."

                "Why?" she asked darkly. She waited for an answer that was along the lines of, "Because he gets to be surrounded by beautiful women." His smile widened. "Because he gets to work with you."

                At that precise moment, Arnold opened the door and found an astounded Helga standing opposite Jake with her mouth hanging open. _What the heck?_ he thought as Jake began to leave. "Bye, Helga. Don't beat too many girls up, though most of them probably need it. Later, Arnold."

                 "Bye, Jake," Helga said breathlessly. Arnold was floored. He had never seen Helga act like that. It did not seem right. Arnold smiled as an idea replaced the disturbing thought in his head. "Bye, Jake," he said in a high, breathy voice, and he batted his eyes for extra effect. Helga turned to him with her mouth still open, but for a different reason this time. He grinned. "Hey, Helga, can you either shut your mouth or find some Listerine, please?" Her eyes narrowed and she swung her bag at him, hitting Arnold him hard in the shoulder. "Hey!" he cried.

                "Hurry up," she snapped as she walked towards the exit. "We're already late."

                "Well, maybe we would be on time if you weren't making googlely eyes at Richardson."

                She spun around, her dark eyes mere slits. "Do you want to be able to play in the Concordia game, or do you want to be beaten to a bloody pulp by a girl?" she threatened. She clinched her left fist tightly, then continued to the door. She turned to him again. "Googlely eyes?"

                Arnold shrugged. "I didn't know what other word to use. I don't look at people like that too often."

                She glared at him again and growled. Arnold smiled. Helga was back to normal. He left her alone as they walked to her car.

                Arnold threw his bags into the back of Helga's Honda Accord, which she had bought last summer after she won two poetry contests in _Teen Scene _and _Ab Fab_ (short for Absolutely Fabulous) magazines, and climbed into the passenger's side. Helga turned the car on, and Linkin Park immediately blared out of the stereo system. "Do you have to listen to it so loud?" he asked as he reached for the volume knob.

                "Touch me radio and die, Football Head," she growled as the sped towards the theater. Arnold decided to remain silent the rest of the way. Helga was just one more comment away from completely snapping, and it was hard telling what she would do if that happened.

                They arrived at the Omni five minutes late. Helga walked like a madman towards the entrance, and Arnold found it difficult to keep up. Helga pulled the doors and marched up to the office area, Arnold right behind her, breathing heavy.

                "Miss Hillwood pageant?" the lady at the desk asked.

                "Yes," they said simultaneously.

                "They're in the theater," she replied with too much perkiness for Helga's mood. She pulled the large double doors open and entered the theater. Helga glared as she looked around, receiving equally unwelcoming stares from the other girls who were waiting at the back. She was well aware that she looked disgusting to them, but what did they expect after a two and a half hour practice? The nineteen other girls were from various schools throughout the city. About fifteen were looking at her as if she was the scum of the earth, two were so caught up in their own problems they ignored her (one was crying while the other was trying to console her. Helga guessed boy trouble), one was putting on her makeup, and the last girl was reading. Helga groaned. What had she done to deserve such a cruel and unusual punishment? Arnold, who was standing beside her, looked the way she felt. However, the girls were looking at him with interest, not as if he should be banished from their presence because her hair was not bouncy enough. Helga's scowl deepened, and the headache between her eyes worsened.

                "So this is who we will be dealing with for the next couple of weeks, huh?" he said, making a pathetic attempt at conversation. The two were close friends, but not even being with her best friend could make the next couple of weeks seem bearable. Helga nodded. "Yeah, 'cept you also got your own little crowd." She pointed towards the front section of seats. Fourteen kids were sitting there, most looking like prima donnas. Arnold groaned. Ms. Stanely had nominated him to be crew chief, which meant he had the happy task of telling the wannabes what to do. "Great," Arnold mumbled as Ms. Stanely walked up to them. "Good, you're here," she said, leading him towards the stage. "Helga, you better join the others," she said to Helga as if she was talking to a two year-old. Helga promptly flipped her off when she turned around. She did wave at Arnold, who waved back as he was lead into Hell. Or maybe it was just Purgatory, since it would not last for all eternity. She stopped him in front of the group, against the wall between the pit and the seats. Fourteen pairs of eyes stared at him, none of which were welcoming.

                "Can we start now?" said a boy who was dressed in all black and was wearing black sunglasses.

                "Oh, yes. Everyone, this is Arnold, from West Hillwood High, and he will be your crew chief. How about everyone say his or her name and their school so we can all get to know each other.

                The first boy was dressed in a tie and khakis. "Louis, Concordia High School."

                The next girl was blonde and very enthusiastic. "My name is Genevieve, and I am from Jefferson High School, home of the Raiders!" The girl beside her shot a dirty look at Genevieve. "Nadia, New Prairie High School," the girl said.

                The boy in black took off his sunglasses. "Julian, East Hillwood High."

                "Mara, St. Vincent High School."

                "Taryn, Arlington High School."

                "Adam, Carter High School."

                "Allison, Marion Central."

                "Adam, Homestead."

                "Chloe, Bishop Chatard."

                "Luke, Marion South."

                "Reese, Franklin High School."

                The last girl had actually been painting her nails. "Oh, sorry. Kathryn, St. James High School." The boy beside her rolled his eyes, and she glared back at him. He sighed. "Ryne, Marietta High School."

                "Good, good, very good," Ms. Stanely said as she crossed names off her list. She paused and put a hand to her mouth. "Oh dear, we're missing one."

                "No, I'm here!" A boy was running towards them, dressed in a cut-off shirt, basketball shorts, and flip-flops. "Sorry, practice ran late," he said, stopping beside Arnold.

                Taryn wrinkled her nose. "Did you shower? Or even change?" she asked in a snotty voice that reminded Arnold of Lila. _Like I need that now,_ he thought.

                "Hey, you are lucky I put on some deodorant before I left," he said, glaring at the girl.

                "Now, now, let's not fight," Ms. Stanely said. Nearly everyone rolled his or her eyes. "What's your name, son?" she asked the boy.

                "Josh Whitman. I'm from Reagan High."

                "Good, good. That's everybody then. Again, Arnold is your crew chief." She placed her hands on Arnold's shoulders, causing the boy to cringe. "But that doesn't mean he will be doing all the work." She smiled and continued in her kindergarten school teacher voice, "Now, the tech crew from the theater won't be working with you until nest week, so just brainstorm today about what you want the stage to look like, lighting, things like that."

                "Excuse me, excuse me," Kathryn interrupted. 

                "Do we get paid for this?"

                "Well, actually you are volunteering, honey. So you can put on college applications and such."

                "Oh."

                "Well, I think that is about it. I'll see you all later." She left, and instantly the group began to make fun of her. Arnold swallowed hard. "Well, I guess we should start just throwing out ideas."

                "I can write them down," said Chloe, a small girl with mousy brown hair. She gave him a small smile as she pulled out a pad of paper.

                "Well, I was thinking that we could do something like Paris. You know, very romantic with an Eiffel Tower Backdrop," Genevieve said, her enthusiasm causing her to speak very quickly and very loudly.

                "Wow, Genevieve, that's a really great idea," Kathryn said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But how 'bout we try something that is a little bit creative and hasn't been done to death?" Genevieve looked away. "Well, I don't see anyone else coming up with any ideas."

                "You were the first person to say anything! Of course no one else had said any ideas!" shouted Julian. The rest got into the argument. Someone would pitch an idea, and five others would criticize it. Poor Chloe was stick trying to copy everything down. "Some crew, huh?" Josh asked Arnold.

                "Yeah. The next couple of weeks are going to be a blast."

                "I was going more towards a riot, but whatever." He smiled at Arnold. "So, chief, what is your next course of action?"

                "Please don't call me that. I didn't even want to do this."

                "Really? Well, you are the man with the plan, brother man. What's next?"

                Arnold looked at the boy. "Did you just say 'brother man'?" Josh was white, so it seemed very geeky.

                "Yeah. Why?"

                "No reason."

                "Anything you want me to do, oh great and powerful leader?"

                Arnold grinned. "I do have power, right?"

                "That's what the crazy lady said, basically."

                "Great. I am naming you my co crew chief."

                Josh's face broke out into a large smile. "I don't know if you are sharing the power or giving me a taste of my own medicine," _You forgot wanted to get rid of all this responsibility_, Arnold thought. "But it's cool. You're all right. Most of these guys would be completely power hungry. But you share the love. You're all right."

                Arnold's grin grew. Maybe Josh was a bit dorky, but he was too, and it was nice to have someone in his corner. Maybe he could survive this after all.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                Helga was desperately fighting the urge to tell everyone to get a life and go home. She sighed. Stephen Soares, president of the Marion County Scholarship Foundation, and Marianna Chadwick, president of the Hillwood Women's Club, the two groups who were the main sponsors of the pageant, had been explaining the pageant and what was expected of the contestants. Apparently she not only had to be in the actual pageant, but she had to attend a brunch with all the sponsors, the preliminary judging, where the judges evaluated the girls by their interview and talent and then chose the top five contestants, who would to it all over again during the pageant, and attend an awards banquet where the girls would be presented with their scholarships and awards. Furthermore, the contestants had to perform two dance numbers during the pageant. _Great_, Helga thought, _another chance for me to make a fool of myself_. The upside of if she did not make it in the top five was that she would only have to perform in the pageant; she would no longer be a contestant.

                "You will not have to pay anything. All the dresses are being provided by Hillwood's top designers," Ms. Chadwick said. Most of the girls squealed. The girl who was sitting beside Helga merely turned a page in her book. Ms. Chadwick continued. "You will have training sessions with expert trainers who have done numerous pageants, and your dance numbers will be choreographed by professionals. We will also have hair stylist and makeup artists if you choose to use them while you are in the pageant." She paused for dramatic effect. "Girls, this is an opportunity of a lifetime and it is a honor to be a part of it, no matter how far you go in it." Most of the girls applauded loudly. Helga clapped politely, and the book girl did the same. "That's all for now. We would like you to come here again tomorrow, same time, and we will start training. Now if you have any questions, please come ask Mr. Soares or me now." All of the girls except book girl and Helga ran up to Soares and Chadwick. "Some shindig they're planning, huh?" she said to the girl.

                "Yeah, great," she said. "You would think people as rich as our wonderful sponsors would have bought a clue by now and realized that there are better ways to give out scholarships, especially since this is supposed to be for girls who have excelled academically. And, I guess, have been involved a lot with their school and the community, but I still think this is completely ridiculous."

                Helga smiled. "I couldn't agree with you more. Helga G. Pataki, West Hillwood High."

                The girl returned the smile. "Callista Hayeworth, St. James High School. Don't ever call me Callista, and we will get along fine. I go by Callie."

                "What are you reading?"

                "_The Catcher in the Rye_. It's my third time through it. I love how Holden talks about all the phonies. I feel like him at the moment."

                Helga nodded. "I always liked that book. I could relate to him. I am surrounded by phonies at West Hillwood." She grimaced. "One of the biggest is right over there," she said, pointing to Lila.

                "Yeah, the princess goes to your school, doesn't she? I can't believe she's in this. But I guess that her stepmom had a lot to do with that. She's a member of the Hillwood Women's Club."

                "You know Lila?"

                "Yeah, unfortunately." She glared at Lila. "I met her at a party over the summer. She was all over my boyfriend. Well, she tried to be, at least. He shoved her away and humiliated her in front of everyone." Callie laughed. "She hasn't been to any parties thrown by someone from St. James ever since."

                "Sounds like he's a keeper."

                Callie laughed again. "Yeah, he was really sweet, but he was dumber then a box of rocks. I felt bad when I broke up with him, but I wanted to date someone who knew a little bit more then his name."

                "I understand completely." Helga was grinning from ear to ear. She had actually found a girl here who hated the pageant, hated Lila, liked politics, and liked _The Catcher in the Rye_. "Callie, I think you have become my single favorite person here."

                She smiled at Helga. "Well, if that is the case, I think we are going to get along just fine, Helga." She and Helga then began to make fun of the other girls. _Maybe this won't be some bad after all_, Helga thought.

A/N: Wow. That really was a long chapter (for me, at least), and my brain and fingers hurt. Hopefully I will have the next chapter up soon, but I will probably take a little break. Later Days.


	4. Just a Little Crush

A/N: I finally got past that awful chapter three. Too many new characters, and I have only introduced three of the contestants (Lila, Helga, and Callie). Anyways, I am done with another chapter so here it is.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold.

Quote: _"Remember, Socrates said that to do is to be and Plato said that to be is to do, but it took Sinatra to say "do be do be do." _That just makes me laugh because it reminds me of an old commercial that had a penguin saying "Do be do be do." (I think it was a beer commercial, but I could be wrong.) Anyways, I saw that while I was looking on hey-arnold.com, and it made me laugh so I put it on here. Dumb stuff like that makes me laugh, but oh well.

Where to Begin

Chapter 4 – Just a Little Crush

                "Arnold! For the sixteenth billion, twenty-seventh million, four hundred fifty-three hundredth thousandth time, I don't know what I am going to do!" Helga shouted as she and Arnold walked to their AP Chemistry class. Arnold had been constantly asking her what she was going to do as her talent ever since the meeting the night before. She had been in a relatively good mood until she was bombarded with questions from Arnold on their way home and again by Bob and Miriam when she got home.

                "Can you repeat that number, please?" he asked, rolling his eyes at his over-dramatic friend.

                "Ughr!" Helga half groaned, half growled. Her headache and bad mood had carried over from the night before. "Can we please talk about something else? This isn't exactly my favorite subject."

                "It's not exactly mine, either. Did you see the kinds of people I have to work with?"

                Helga looked at him funny. "Since when are you so quick to judge?"

                "I spent an hour listening to them argue. I think I have an idea of what kind of people they are."

                "At least they have brains and not just hair with enough hairspray to put another hole in the ozone layer."

                Arnold, the eternal optimist, tried to get Helga to say something positive. "They can't all be bad."

                "Newsflash, Arnold! They are!" She paused. "Okay, so I found one that was normal, but still!" Her scowl deepened. She looked at him. "What did we do to deserve this?"

                Arnold shrugged. "We put a laxative in that sub's coffee last month before break. I would like to remind you that I was completely against that idea. You forced me to go along with it."

                Helga laughed. "Oh yeah, I forgot about that. But was it really that bad? I mean, the guy was a jerk and had it coming." She narrowed her eyes. "And I am sorry that poor little old you is too sensitive and can't handle peer pressure. You thought it was funny."

                "I did not. I was just merely—" Arnold started as Jake Richardson passed them on his way to government. Arnold did not like Jake too much. The team co-captain, Jake was too cocky and did not have the talent to back up his attitude. However, Arnold usually tried to be on good terms with the senior because they were teammates. Helga, on the other hand, must have felt differently about Jake.

                "Hey, Jake," she said blushing, seconds before she ran into the chemistry room as someone was opening it from the other side. Helga landed hard on the floor. A short red-haired girl was rambling apologies as Arnold and Jake kneeled over Helga, each on one side.

                "Helga? Helga, wake up," Arnold said as he lightly hit Helga's cheek. Her eyes opened slowly. "Criminey," she whispered. Arnold and Jake both helped her sit up. "Ow," she said, putting a hand up to her head. A large knot was forming. "Ow," she said again.

                "Helga, I'm so sorry," Jake said, helping her stand up. "Here, I'll take you to the nurse."

                Arnold supported her from the other side. "It's alright, Jake. I'll take her."

                "No, Arnold, I'll go. Chem II is more important then government. Don't worry, I'll take care of Helga."

                "Helga's in my class. It would be easier if I just went with her."

                "Yeah, but Helga's a chem genius. You need all the help you can get."

                Arnold's cheeks turned slightly red. "Look, Jake, it's okay. I can take Helga to the nurse."

                "That's okay, Arnold. Jake can take me."

                Arnold looked wide-eyed at Helga. What? He tried to protest again, but something in Helga's eyes stopped him. She seemed to be pleading with him to let Jake take her. He sighed inwardly. "Okay, I'll see you later, Helga. Bye, Jake," he said, but the two had already left and were not paying any attention to him. Arnold growled. Helga had practically begged Arnold to let Jake take her. _She doesn't have a crush on him, does she?_ he thought. _And why does it bother me so much?_

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                Arnold did not see Helga again until lunch because she missed all of chemistry. It was difficult to find Helga at lunch because she sat with different people everyday. Today she was sitting with Brainy and his friend Alex, who was a different sort of person, like Brainy, but was a lot more sociable. Actually he never seemed to shut up. Arnold smiled. Who would have thought that Helga would willingly sit with Brainy? There was a story behind all this, but it was long and Helga had never told him the whole thing. In short, Brainy had been a shoulder for Helga to cry on in seventh grade, and she was eternally grateful to him. Arnold walked over to their table. "Can I sit here?"

                Alex answered, "Sure." Arnold sat across from Helga. She was quietly eating her grilled chicken sandwich and was avoiding Arnold's eyes. "So, Arnold, have you heard about how Helga was swept away by her knight in shining armor this morning?"

                "Alex!" Helga screeched. Brainy blushed slightly, but said nothing. Arnold watched as Helga stomped on Alex's foot, causing the boy to yelp in pain. Thankfully the rest of the cafeteria was extremely loud; otherwise their outbursts may have attracted some unwelcome overseers. "Yeah, I was there," Arnold said blandly. Helga locked eyes with him, but quickly averted them.

                "Really?" Alex leaned closer to Arnold. "So, were there singing birds and bells and trumpets and things like that?"

                "Alex!" Helga's face was bright red.

                "Was it like one of those old black and white romantic movies? Like _Casablanca_? Here's looking at you and that nasty bump on your forehead, kid," he said in his best Humphrey Bogart voice, which was a very good imitation. Arnold and Brainy laughed. Helga, however, looked like she was going to strangle the skinny kid.

                "Actually, Helga just kind of ran into the door. It was not romantic. Just klutzy." Brainy laughed harder and Alex joined in. Arnold swore he saw steam blow out of Helga's ears. Okay, maybe they went to far.

                "C'mon on, Brainy. Let's go before Helga decides to hurt us," Alex said. The two boys left, laughing hysterically. Arnold looked at Helga, who was glaring at him. "I'm glad you can get your jollies from my pain."

                "Hey, I tried to help you, but you didn't want my assistance, remember?"

                "So what. I don't need you to do everything for me, Arnoldo."

                "You'd rather have Jake Richardson, a first class jerk help you then your best friend?"

                "He's not a jerk."

                "Yes, he is, Helga. You don't know him like I do."

                "Because you are such good friends with him. Maybe you don't know him like I do. Maybe you're just jealous."

                "Over you? I doubt it." Arnold regretted these words the minute he said them. Helga's eyes widened, and then she glared even harder at him, and the two sat in uncomfortable silence just staring at each other. "That came out wrong," he finally said.

                "I hope so," she retorted coldly. "You know, it's just a crush. It's not like I'm in love with the guy. You chased Lila for nearly seven years."

                "So?"

                "So just let me run with this for a while. It's really no big deal."

                "I just don't want you to get hurt, that's all. I know what he's like with girls. I've heard him brag about it in the locker room. I don't want you to be just an other girl he throws aside after he gets what he wants from you."

                Helga's expression softened. "I know, Arnold, and I am grateful that you are always looking out for me, but I can handle myself." She sighed, looking mildly depressed. "I don't know why we are even fighting about this. Nothing's going to come of it."

                "You don't know that. Maybe he likes you back."

                She raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you or don't you want me to date him?"

                Arnold realized his own fickleness (though he was doing it to back her feel better) and quickly tried to cover it up. "Well, you said nothing was going to come of it, so I figured I could boost your self confidence without having to worry about you actually getting involved with the guy."

                "No, that's something you don't have to worry about," she said sadly, lowering her eyes to her hands. Arnold hated to see her so downtrodden. "Helga, c'mon, don't be so depressed. It will be okay. Everything will turn out okay, I promise."

                She looked at him. "Why do you always have to look on the bright side?"

                "Somebody has too," they said in unison. Helga laughed. "Same old Football Head." Arnold smiled. Everything was okay, at least for now.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                Arnold did not have to go to the Omni that night, which he was very grateful for. He needed a break from his tech crew. He groaned. If he needed a break after just one meeting, he hated to see what the next month would be like when they had to start designing and building the set. Arnold knew that deep down, they probably were not that bad; the problem with that was that he had to dig down to get there, and he was not in the mood. He waited for Gerald by his mustang. Helga had already left to go to the theater.

                "I tell ya, Arnold, that guy gets worse and worse everyday."

                Arnold looked at his friend who was angrily shoving his stuff into the back seat. "Who are you talking about?"

                "Who do you think I am talking about? Richardson!"

                "What did he do this time?"

                "He made us do the gut drill. Twice. Have you forgotten?"

                Arnold's stomach lurched at the memory. The gut drill, named so because it made you want to throw up, was fifteen down and backs long ways across the gym in three minutes. It was a conditioning exercise, but was also used as a punishment. In this case, while the team was scrimmaging, Jake had been lazy getting back on defense after he made a three, and Mark Patterson made an easy lay-up. The team had to run the drill while listening to their coach sermon about how Concordia was too good a team to give easy baskets to and hope to get away with it. He continued by saying that the team was just a bunch of lazy city kids who had never had a day of hard labor in their pampered lives. James Packard, his coach, was from Indiana and had had to drop out of college where he played division-one basketball when he was nineteen because his parents had died in a car accident. He was forced to work in a steel mill to support his three younger brothers. He later went back to school and got his teaching degree, and devoted his life to coaching so that other players could get to live the dream he did not. Unfortunately, the whole experience left him a little bitter (though he was able to marry a very sweet wife), and he seemed to hold a small grudge against so-called pampered rich kids because they had never known the heartache he had. Anyways, Jake had been lackadaisical and had finished about five seconds late, so everyone had to do the drill again. "Yeah, I remember." He said as he got into the car.

                "I really hate that guy. He thinks he is Kobe or something, but really he sucks."

                "Gerald."

                "I'm serious, Arnold. Hopefully you'll be taking his starting spot soon."

                Arnold stared at Gerald. "Are you saying I am getting that good, or that he is so bad that even I am better now?"

                Gerald turned a corner sharp as he tried to get through the intersection before the light turned red. "A little bit of both," he said, smiling at the stoic Arnold. "You are getting better. At least I should hope so. Helga's been kicking your ass for too long._ I'm_ embarrassed for you."

                "Thanks, Gerald," Arnold said blandly. "Besides, I'm a point guard, not a shooting guard."

                "So? You know how to shoot, don't you? And we need a taller point guard than you. Someone who can see the court better." Their starting point guard and another player who could play point were both 6'2''.

                Arnold rolled his eyes. "Gerald, is there anything else you would like to add to lower my self-esteem even more? And does two inches make that much difference?"

                "It does at times." Arnold slouched slightly in his seat. "Man, would you get over it, already? I'm just joking."

                "I know, I know."

                Gerald pulled up in front of Arnold's house. "I am serious. Stop acting like a girl."

                "I am NOT acting like a girl," Arnold said as he grabbed his stuff.

                "Yes, you are. You are acting more like a girl than Helga." Gerald stopped and stared at Arnold, who stared back at him. After a few seconds, they both cracked up. "Helga's never acted like a girl," Gerald said.

                "You said it, not me."

                "That poor girl. I know she's come a long way from elementary school, but still. That girl in a beauty contest is like me in chess club."

                "I know. Anyways, I'll see you later." The two boys did their handshake, the argument long forgotten.

                "Later."

                Arnold looked up into the night sky as Gerald sped off. He wondered how Helga was doing at the moment. Arnold was worried about her. Gerald was right, Helga was a fish out of water in that pageant. He just hoped she would be able to handle it. The last thing he needed at the moment was a very angry and stressed Helga G. Pataki. He sighed and was greeted by Abner and other animals as he went inside. "Kimba! Dinner!" his grandma shouted from the dinning room. Arnold smiled. It was just another day at Sunset Arms.

A/N: So that's chapter four. I don't think I got the "Because somebody has to" thing right from the movie, but you should be able to get the point. Next chapter is called "Let's Make a Deal" (I've actually already planned what is going to happen in it. Yea me). Later days.


	5. Let's Make a Deal

A/N: I'm in a good mood because the Atlanta Braves' opening day is tomorrow, so I figured I would write. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, it makes my day to read them, and it also makes me want to write more, so keep it up. Anyways, chapter five is here. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I still don't own Hey Arnold, but I'm working on it ^_^

Where to Begin

Chapter 5 – Let's Make a Deal

                "Welcome back, everyone!"

                Helga glared at Mrs. Chadwick as she sat on the cold floor of one of the many practice studios at the Omni Theater. Callie was sitting on her right with a similar expression on her face. After a particularly grueling practice she was not in the mood to learn how to properly walk or talk or whatever else they were going to try to teach her.

                "I'm glad you all are so eager to get started," Helga and Callie exchanged you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me looks. They were not the only ones. Many of the other girls looked like they would rather be at the dentist. She continued on. "Today we have a few men here who specialize in prepping young ladies like yourselves for pageants just like this one. They will here everyday working with you on everything from interviews to talent to how to move with grace and ease." She motioned to four middle-aged men. Helga was trying to remember if she had ever seen anything so pathetic in before in her life. Chadwick looked at her clipboard. "Let's see. Miss Pataki, Miss DiMauro, Miss Verducci, Miss Amonte, and Miss Hayeworth can go with Mr. Samson. That's the man on the far right. He will take you to your rehearsal studio. Miss Venable—" Helga blocked the older woman's annoying voice as she followed Mr. Samson out of the room and into another room that looked just like it. Samson appeared to be the youngest and least pathetic of the group, but that really was not saying much. He was average height with sharp gray eyes and jet black hair. He was dressed in black pants and a green polo shirt. His eyes stared coldly at the girls who were sitting up against one of the side walls when he finally spoke to them.

                "First off, I am not gay. I am happily divorced and I have two kids." 

                "That doesn't mean anything," Callie whispered.

                "Second of all, I don't normally do this. I am vice principal of a finishing school in Seattle. I am doing this as a favor for Mrs. Chadwick's husband. However, I am determined to make you into posed and elegant pageant contestants, not because I care, though, but because the other men and I have a bet on who gets the most girls into the top five."

                Helga smirked. This guy thought he was hot stuff, but he was just a bitter middle-aged man who had nothing better to do with his life then tell people how to drink tea. He turned to her and looked at her sharply. "Did I say something funny Miss—"

                "Pataki. Helga Pataki. And no, you were extremely straightforward with no humor at all."

                He eyed her intensely yet without interest. "What school are you from?"

                "West Hillwood."

                "Year?"

                "Junior."

                "I see." He looked thoughtful for a moment, his hand on his chin. "Stand up."

                She stood up. "What's my next challenge, oh great teacher?"

                He gazed even more coldly at her. "Walk across the room."

                "Are you serious?" she asked, not moving.

                "Miss Pataki, do I look like a man who likes to joke? When I tell you to do something, you do it. Now walk across this room."

                She glared at him as she walked to the other wall and back to the group of girls. "Again," Samson commanded, his arms crossed across his chest. Helga growled slightly, still in a state of disbelief that she was wasting her time walking in front of a group of brainless girls (minus Callie) and a power-hungry little man, and repeated the task. "Look, Mr. Samson," she started as she walked.

                "Don't call me that. You will call me Dan. Mr. Samson makes me sound old."

                "You are old," she said. His lower lip curled in disgust. "Again, Miss Pataki," he ordered. She started across the room again, her patience wearing thin. "Girls, it is very evident that Miss Pataki had never been in a beauty pageant," he said when she was halfway to the other side. "Am I correct?"

                "Yeah," she said, stopping. "Why?"

                "Because you walk like an ape-girl who doesn't have an ounce of grace or elegance in her whole gangly body." Helga turned around. He was glaring coldly at her while the other girls laughed. Callie shrugged at her, but was laughing just as hard as the other three. Mr. Samson, or Dan, walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Miss Pataki, how tall are you?"

                "5'8''."

                "Well, many girls would kill to be that height, so use it. That means do not slouch. Ever. Now, always walk with your head up. People want to judge you by your beautiful face," he said sarcastically as he lifted her chin, his icy gaze matching her own. He walked around her and stood behind her. "Shoulders back." He pulled her shoulders hard. "And lastly, don't stomp when you walk. I don't care what kind of person you are or what kind of life you have, but the judges want to see a happy, carefree girl who seems to walk on air. Please try again." She did as she was told, but her anger prevented her from stepping lightly. He followed her. "I said glide!" he yelled, slapping her on the ass.

                Stunned, Helga covered about ten feet in two seconds as she moved away from him. "What the hell are you doing, you ass—" she shouted, but apparently he could move just as fast as she could. He clamped his left hand over her mouth, stifling her outburst before she could finish. He seemed to look straight through her, as if trying to read her thoughts. "Miss Pataki, pageant winners do not speak like that to anyone, especially someone who can help them in their pathetic quest to be number one. Let's get this straight now. While you are in my guidance, you will treat me with respect and you will do whatever I say!" She wrenched his hand off of her face, and walked the rest of the way to the girls, who had been watching with a great deal of interest. She moved as lightly and elegantly as she could.

                "Miss Pataki?"

                "What?" she snapped.

                "What are you doing for the talent portion of this wonderful competition?" he asked as she neared the finish.

                "I don't have a talent yet," she said, immediately regretting her choice of words. She knew what was coming next.

                "Truer words my ears have never heard." She stopped momentarily, took a deep breath to calm herself down and to keep herself from killing the man, and continued on. "That's enough for now, Miss Pataki. You may sit down. You, Miss Amonte I believe, please come here. Yes, that is very good. Remember, chin up. . ."

                Helga sat down beside Callie, red with anger and embarrassment. Her pride was nearly crushed. "It's okay, Helga. The guy's an asshole." Callie said in attempt to cheer Helga up. She said nothing. She watched quietly as the other girls practiced. Samson's verbal abuse was much more subdued with them than it had been with her. Anger boiled up inside her during her next turn. Mrs. Chadwick had come in to see how the girls were doing. Samson had switched into coach of the year mode and gave only constructive criticism. After the other girls went through again, he worked with them on their talent performances while the others continued to practice walking. Callie and Helga glided in the back while Charlotte Amonte and Mackenzie DiMauro practiced near Dan, who was currently watching Sabrina Verducci perform her Pointe routine. Callie, who had done well when she worked with Dan, was over exaggerating everything he told her. She kicked her leg back as she stepped with the other, and was swinging her arms as far as she could, wrists bent in effort to look graceful. Helga could not help but laugh, so Callie began to twirl while continuing her strut.

                "Miss Hayeworth! What are you doing?"

                "Gliding, Sir!" she yelled and she moved faster.

                "Well, relax on it. You look like a retarded dodo bird. You will give Pataki the wrong idea, and she needs all the help she can get."

                Callie stopped and looked at Helga, who had also stopped and was glaring at him. "Miss Pataki, I don't believe I told you to stop."

                She growled and continued on. Callie did so as well, but she walked normal. The two continued walking back and forth in silence until eight-thirty when he released them. "We will continue tomorrow. Miss Pataki, please come here. I would like to talk to you."

                Callie gave her a sympathetic look as she left. Helga walked over to him. "Yes?"

                "Miss Pataki, I don't give a damn about you. I won't to get that point across before I say anything else."

                "Look, I'm not stupid. I already figured that one out, so just save your breath," she said walking away from him.

                "I wasn't finished."

                She turned around and walked back. "Okay. Continue."

                He glared fiercely at her. "I don't give a damn about you. You can make a complete fool of yourself for all I care. However, I can tell that deep down you want to win for some reason, my guess is the money, otherwise you would have told everyone to go fuck themselves, and you would have gone on your merry way. I can help you, but you have to be willing to do whatever I tell you to do."

                She eyed him carefully. "Why aren't you telling any of the other girls this?"

                "Because you are the only one here who has enough determination bottled up inside of them to win."

                She continued to stare at him. "Miss Pataki, you can do this. Keep that temper of yours in control, and you'll mop the floor with the rest of the girls. I can help you do it, but I will only help you if you really want it. Don't waste my time." He left her standing alone in the room, bewildered. _Well, that makes two people who think I can do this_, she thought.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                Helga walked to her locker after school feeling extremely sluggish. She had been up until one the night before finishing homework and thinking about the pageant, and all she had to look forward to was practice until six, pageant prepping, and more homework. She was angrily jamming books into her bag when a voice suddenly called, "Helga, dear, there you are!"

                Helga moved her locker door and looked into the blue eyes of Rhonda Wellington Lloyd (blue from colored contacts. Rhonda's eyes were naturally gray). Though she had some sort of a friendship with Rhonda, the girl was not one whose sudden appearance made Helga want to jump up and down, especially in this mood. "What do you need, Rhonda. I need to get to practice."

                "Oh, Helga, I just had the most charming conversation with Lila." Helga snorted. Rhonda and Lila hated each other, so she bet the conversation was anything but 'charming'. Rhonda continued. "Anyways, the dear girl seems certain that she is going to win the Miss Hillwood Pageant."

                "So? That's old news. Let Miss Perfect live in her dream world. What does this have to do with me?"

                "Well, Helga, I would much rather see you win then Lila."

                Helga shut her locker and observed the brunette in front of her. "What are you getting at?"

                "Helga, I would like to help you with the pageant."

                Helga's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. "Oh no. Rhonda, we barely get along as it is. You want to spend that much time with me? We'll kill each other."

                "You do want to win, don't you?"

                "Well, yeah, but—"

                "Well, I can help you," she interrupted. "Arnold thinks it's a good idea as well."

                Helga looked past Rhonda at the blonde boy who was trying without much luck to look like he was not listening to the two girls. "Is that so?" she asked. Arnold ignored her and kept getting his stuff ready to go. She turned back to Rhonda. "What do you have in mind?"

                "Well, I can help you with your clothes and hair and makeup and that sort of thing, and how to respond properly during an interview and help you with your talent. What is your talent, anyway?"

                "I don't know yet."

                "Well, I can help you with that as well. Please, Helga."

                "You really don't want Lila to win, do you?" Rhonda nodded. "Fine. You can help."

                "Yes!" she cried, hugging Helga. "Rhonda, please, let me go," Helga chocked. Rhonda let go. "I know you'll win with my help, Helga."

                "Right," she said. "I have to go. Hey Football Head?"

                "What?"

                "Wanna walk me to practice?"

                "Sure. Bye, Rhonda."

                "Good-bye, Arnold. Good-bye, Helga," she said and left merrily, bouncing down the hall. Helga glared at Arnold. "So this was your idea?"

                "No, it was Phoebe's and Rhonda's. I just thought it made sense."

                "Phoebe was in on it too?"

                "Yeah, she wants to help as well. Helga, we all want you to win."

                "You want me to win, or you want me to beat Lila?"

                He blinked. "Aren't they the same?"

                "Sure," she said, too tired to continue arguing. _Practice, practice, homework. Isn't my life exciting_, she thought.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                "Girls, today we have a choreographer, Miss Sheltie, and a few of her assistants here to help you learn your routine for the pageant. As you all know, the contestants perform together twice, once at the opening and again later on in the show. This year, because of our sponsor MJAZZ and the popular movie _Chicago_, you will be dancing to "All that Jazz," one of the popular songs from the musical."

                All the girls gasped and a few shrieked. Helga just sat dumbstruck. I have to dance?! Callie actually looked excited. "You actually like this idea?" she asked.

                Callie nodded. "Yeah. I used to be in dance, and I liked it. I also love that song. Hey!" she said as Helga rolled her eyes. "You could try to like _something_ about this, you know."

                "Yeah, I could, but I won't."

                Callie just shook her head. Mrs. Chadwick continued. "Okay, girls spread out. Miss Sheltie is going to show you a few moves, and you will try to do them yourself. The others will be watch so they can decide who will have solos and will be in the front. Girls, it is okay if you don't do well right now. I know not all of you have studied dance, but we will be practicing a lot, and you will do just fine. Please don't get discouraged. Okay, Miss Sheltie. They're all yours."

                Miss Sheltie was a woman in her early thirties who was tall, blonde, and rail thin. However, she could dance, and she began teaching a mini routine. Helga did not really mind too much. The real problem was that there was a mirror in the front of the room and she could see how much better everybody else was. The assistants were walking around looking at everyone. Lila was doing really well, as was Callie and Sabrina, the Pointe girl. One of them, a young girl, stopped in front of Helga. "You're pretty good. How long have you been dancing?"

                "For about fifteen minutes."

                The girl smiled. "I mean, how long have you been studying dance?"

                Helga continued on dancing, this time trying to master a difficult turn. "I told you, fifteen minutes."

                "Wait, you've never danced before?"

                "Not like this."

                The girl called over two other assistants. "Hey, this girl's never danced before."

                "You're kidding," one man said. "You're a natural." He paused. "Can you sing?"

                "A little," she answered. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you all watching me?"

                "Because you are one of the best in here," the girl said as she walked away. Callie winked at Helga. "See, it's not so bad, is it?" Helga was very confused. All she could do, however, was try not to look like a complete fool.

                "Okay, that's enough for now," Miss Sheltie said after forty-five minutes. She turned to her assistants. "Who did you like?" They pointed to Lila, Callie, Sabrina, Isabella Rivas, and Helga. "Those were the best, though the rest were good too. You're lucky. Nobody's bad in here."

                She nodded and pasted out music sheets to the girls. "Let's see if you can sing." She went to the piano and practiced.

                "Miss Sheltie?" Sabrina asked.

                "Yes?"

                "I would prefer to just dance, if you don't mind. I can't sing very well."

                Miss Sheltie nodded. "That's fine, dear. Anyone else?" she asked. Helga was about to speak up when Miss Sheltie spoke again. "Okay. You in the green tank top, you're up first." She began to play and Lila sang along. She did pretty well and looked very smug afterwards. Isabella went next, but she was not as good as Lila. Callie followed. She did all right, but Helga could tell she would be a better singer with a different type of song. "Okay, Blondie. Your turn," Miss Sheltie said to Helga. Helga swallowed hard and began to sing.

_"C'mon babe, why don't we paint the town? And all that jazz._

_I'm gonna rouge my knees and roll my stockings down.  And all that jazz._

_Start the car I know a whoopee spot,_

_Where the gin is cold but the piano's hot._

_It's just a noisy hall where there's a nightly brawl._

_And all that jazz._

_Slick your hair and wear your buckle shoes. And all that jazz._

_I hear that Feather Dip is gonna blow the blues. And all that jazz._

_Hold on hon, we're gonna bunny hug,_

_I bought some aspirin down at United Drug,_

_In case you shake apart and want a brand new start,_

_To do that jazz."_

                Every pair of eyes in the room was on Helga. Miss Sheltie smiled. "We have our Velma." Everyone clapped at Helga, who was speechless. "Good job, Helga! I knew ya had it in ya," Callie said, hugging her new friend. Lila stood behind everyone, glaring at Helga. _Maybe this won't be so bad_, Helga thought. _I have a solo!_

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                While Helga was discovering talent she never knew she had, Arnold was discovering that he was not as patient as he thought he was_. Maybe I'm hanging around Helga too much_, he thought as he looked at his fighting crewmembers. They had been sitting on the stage arguing for an hour. Josh had been quiet the whole time. Arnold had tried to get a word or two in, but he had given up a half hour ago.

                "I think we should build a big bridge, with lots of lights, and we can have an actual river running through the stage."

                "That's dumb. How are they supposed to perform?"

                "Somebody say something else. All these ideas are lame."

                "Why don't you suggest something?"

                "I'm doing my nails."

                "Well, maybe if some people actually were awake they could say something." SMACK.

                "What the hell? I was awake!"

                "So? You deserve it."

                "Why?"

                "Because! Who wears sunglasses inside?"

                "Who goes around smacking people up side the head because they don't like what somebody's wearing?"

                "People who dress in normal attire!"

                "Yeah, like that's normal. You look like a bag lady."

                "Why I oughta. . ."

                "Will you please shut up?" Arnold shouted. Fifteen pairs of eyes stared at him, stunned. He was surprised at himself. "I mean, stop arguing." Nobody said anything. He sighed. "Look, no one wants to really do this, right?" Everyone remained quiet. "Okay then. We should do something simple so we won't end up spending a lot of our time doing something we hate. We'll make it look good, but sometimes less is more, right?"

                "Yeah, I guess," Ryne said. "Do you have an idea?"

                "Well, no, but I am sure we can think of something."

                "I have an idea," Josh said.

                "Great. The dumb jock has an idea," Kathryn muttered.

                Josh stood up, ignoring the snotty girl. "Here are the plans I came up with," he said, handing the papers to Arnold who placed them on the floor so everyone could see. "We can build a small staircase for them to come out of," he motioned to the back of the stage, "We'll leave the stage floor as is, and I was thinking about three water fountains on the stage, but on platforms so we can move them around when we need to."

                Everyone nodded. "Maybe we should have a small staircase leading into a bigger staircase, like the pageants on TV. There is a lot of room on stage, so we shouldn't have a problem taking up their performing space," Allison said.

                "It's a jazzy theme, right? So maybe we could get it to look like the club in the movie _The Mask_. You know, big staircase with lots of lights, and a band playing on the side," Reese added.

                "Yeah, that's a good idea because they're having a band play," Louis said. They continued throwing out ideas as Chloe wrote everything down. Arnold smiled. It was not going to be as simple as he first thought, but at least they were finally working together, and it seemed like it was going to be an awesome set.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                "You really saved us back there, Josh."

                "No problem. Somebody just had to get the ball rolling." He smiled at Arnold. "Way to take control. I didn't think you had it in you. I have to admit, I was a little scared of you."

                Arnold laughed. They were walking into the lobby, feeling pretty good. He knew that things would get better, and once everybody had stopped fighting Arnold could see that most of them were really nice and creative. He could not wait to work with them. He was about to leave when he heard a voice behind him. "Arnold! Hey Arnold! Wait up!" He turned to see Helga running towards him, a very attractive brunette behind her. The girl looked to be about four inches shorter than Helga. Her honey brown hair was in long ringlets, and she was extremely curvy, but still slim. As she and Helga stopped, he looked at her pretty face, which was highlighted by bright green eyes that revealed that she was a girl who was ready to start trouble when need be. "Hey, Helga," he said, not noticing that beside him Josh's face had lit up.

                "Arnold! You will never guess what just happened to me! I got a solo for the dance number in the pageant!" she exclaimed, not pausing for him to guess.

                "That's great, Helga." He raised an eyebrow. "You can dance?"

                "I guess. But I'll be singing too! Can you believe it? Me!"

                Arnold smiled. It was good to see Helga happy for a change. Maybe this was the confidence boost she needed. "I'm sure you'll do great."

                "Thanks," she said, her smile a mile wide. "Oh, I forgot. Arnold, this is Callie. And that is—" she said, nodding towards Josh.

                "That's Josh. He's my co-crew chief. Nice to meet you, Callie,"

                "Nice to meet you too, Arnold, Josh," she turned to Helga, not noticing the flush that had appeared on Josh's face. "I have to go, so I'll see you tomorrow. "Oh, I love my life, and all that jazz!" she sang as she left. Helga laughed. "You ready to go?"

                "Yep. You coming, Josh?"

                "Yeah." The two boys followed Helga out to the parking lot. Arnold noticed Josh had a goofy grin on his face. Well, goofier than normal. "You okay?"

                "Do you know who that is?"

                "Who, Helga?"

                "No, Callie. She's Callista Hayeworth. I meet her a party earlier this year, and I've been crazy about her ever since."

                Arnold laughed. "Well maybe this is your lucky day."

                Josh's face lit up even more. "Hey! I have an idea. You can help me with Callie, and I can help you get together with Helga."

                Arnold stopped. "What? No, no, no, Helga and I are just friends. I don't like her like that."

                "Really? Well, I have to go. My car's about a hundred feet that way. See ya, Arnold."

                Arnold watched him go. _What was Josh implying? Do I act like I like Helga?_ he thought. "Hey, Football Head! Some time this century!" Helga yelled from her car. He shook his head. _No, I couldn't like her, could I?_

A/N: I actually enjoyed writing this chapter, though it took a while. The updates won't be coming so frequently because break is over and I have to go back to school tomorrow ¬_¬. I am hoping to get at least one new chapter up a week. On a good note, I have outlined the first part of the story and I can tell you that this is going to be a long story, which means I either have a lot of chances to make this a great fic or a lot of chances to screw it into the ground. Anyways, next chapter is "Follow the Bouncing Ball." Later days and go Braves!!


	6. Follow the Bouncing Ball

A/N: Sorry it has been so long since an update. I took a bit of a break and then this chapter turned out to be longer than I thought it would be. . .anyways, here is chapter six.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold! because if I did I would not be writing this. . .

Where to Begin 

Chapter 6 – Follow the Bouncing Ball

                Helga kept shifting her weight back and forth from one foot to the other, her head and shoulders following the movement. It amazed her that although she had been on varsity as a freshman and had been a starter ever since the middle of the previous season she was still nervous before every game. 

                Lincoln High School was an old school, built in 1936, and though it had been renovated twenty-seven years ago, the gym still looked run down. Large, creaky wooden bleachers lined the two long walls downstairs and all four walls upstairs. Lincoln was lucky they were not a powerhouse team because here would not be enough room for all the fans in the small gym, which had remained the same size as the school enrollment increased by 1000. Still, even with a 1-12 record, the gym was filled with enough wild fans to give Helga the willies.

                She began practicing lay-ups with her team during warm-ups. She started at the top of the key, dribbled hard twice and mentally cursed herself as she missed because she throw the ball up too hard. Helga continued from both sides of the basket, each time with more success than her first attempt. She moved to the outer court after working on her free throws during the open shoot about three minutes before the game started. Helga was working on her three point shots when she spotted Arnold, Gerald, and Phoebe walking towards the visiting students section. Helga waved slightly as Phoebe flailed her arms wildly to try to get Helga's attention (it was amazing how this shy and quiet girl acted during basketball games, yelling at the referees and heckling the opposing team. Gerald even had trouble controlling her, and she was crazier at his games). Arnold smiled at her, and Gerald merely nodded. Helga grinned. It was nice to have her friends cheering her on, especially at an away game.

                "Hey, Helga! Good Luck!" Helga turned to see who was calling for her, and she nearly fainted (again) when she saw Jake Richardson and his million dollar smile routing for her. She gave him a small half-smile; after all she was supposed to be preparing for a ballgame, not trying to improve her love life.

                The buzzer sounded, and her coach went into his usual speech. After the starting line-ups were announced, Helga went onto the court and set up for the opening tip-off. West Hillwood's center, Dana Sonners, tipped the ball to Helga, who passed it to the point guard, who passed it back to Helga, and she opened the game with a long trey from the wing.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                Arnold ate another M & M and watched with little interest as Gerald tried to see how many times in a row he could catch popcorn in his mouth. Phoebe was tossing them to him, and Arnold suddenly felt like throwing up. So, naturally, he ate more chocolate.

                West Hillwood was winning by thirty-one with a little more than two minutes left in the third quarter. The Fighting Irish had opened the game on a 14-0 run, half of the points scored by Helga. In reality, West Hillwood had the game won by the first quarter, and it was just pathetic to watch. The team's third string, mostly junior varsity players who had dressed for the game, was still killing Lincoln starters. 

Arnold sighed as Gerald and Phoebe got into one of those cutesy couple fights about whose fault it was the streak had ended (they had made it to thirty-two). "I'm going to the bathroom," he said but highly doubted they heard him. Arnold somehow managed to get to the isle, silently cursing Gerald for insisting that they sit in the center of the bleachers. Normally he would not have cared, but because of Lincoln's small gym they were packed in like sardines.

                Arnold splashed ice cold water on his face in an attempt to wake up from his boredom and because he was hot from the crowded gym. If it did not mean so much to Helga, he probably would have went to a movie or to Rhonda's party where he was planning to go to after the game. He left the restroom trying to find something to occupy his time; he did not want to watch that horrible excuse of a game anymore. However, about two seconds later he changed his mind and would have paid good money to go back to the gym. He had run into West Hillwood's self-proclaimed goddess and queen of the junior class.

                Lila was trying way too hard to be noticed in her navy cheerleading outfit and the form-fitting skirt which she wore shorter than the rest of the squad. A heavy amount of glittery gold eye shadow weighed down her eyelids, and she her mascara had run slightly because of perspiration. Her hair was styled in French braids, complete with gold glitter dusted on the auburn stands, and the navy bows on the ends reminded him of the old Lila he used to like. She linked her left arm with his left and pulled him close to her. "Oh, Arnold, I'm ever so happy I ran into you. I haven't talk to you in so long," she said as they walked.

                "Uh, Lila, aren't you supposed to be cheering?"

                "Oh, Arnold, it's a girls' game. They don't want us here, we don't want to be here, and no one cares."

                Apparently Lila had forgotten that half of the people in the full gym were West Hillwood fans, the team was undefeated, and they had a good chance to win the state tournament. However, she had gotten the first part right. The girls did not want the cheerleaders there, and the cheerleaders thought it was far too much work to have to cheer at both boys' and girls' games. "Lila, it's nice that you wanted to talk to me, but I really should go back to my seat. Gerald and Phoebe might be wondering if I fell in the sink." This was not a complete lie; they _might _be wondering what happened to him, but he highly doubted it.

                "But Arnold, I just wanted to talk to you. I never see you. I miss being such close friends with you and spending time with you."

                Arnold eyed her. _Just where was this coming from?_ _Lila most of the time does not give me the time of day_, he thought. "That's nice, Lila, but I think—"

                "So what do you think of the pageant so far?" She interrupted. "It's amazing how quickly things are going. And I hardly see you there! You know, maybe we should go for coffee after practice sometime."

                "That's nice, Lila, but I am usually busy." Arnold tried desperately to pull away, but she only tightened her grip. "But Arnold, I think we should really spend more time together," she whined. I can't take this anymore! "Look, Lila, I should really sit down. Gerald and Phoebe—"

                "I'm sure they'll manage ever so well without you. On the other hand, I might not." She batted her eyes and pouted. He was amazed that she could do two things at once. Arnold looked around and realized he had no clue where Lila was leading him. All he knew was that he needed to get away and fast. Lila was one of the very few people he could not stand to be alone with, Jake and Matt Gordon being the only others he could think of at the moment. "That's, that's nice, Lila, but I am sure your squad is needs you and I want to go watch the game." It was amazing how different the game looked from this angle. It was like an oasis in a desert of Lila, or something like that. Helga was the real thinker and poet of the group, not him. He was rambling in his mind, anything to try to forget how close she was getting. "Lila, please, how 'bout we go back to the gym?"

                She pouted even more. "But Arnold, there is too many people there.  I wanted to show you this secret, ever so private place I found," she said huskily, running her fingers down his arm, "If you understand what I mean." She licked her lips and pulled his hand up towards her mouth.

                Oh God no! He pulled his hand away just before she slipped her mouth over his middle finger. "I really have to go," he said. Arnold turned and sprinted back to the gym, ignoring Lila as she called his name. He leaned up against the gym doors. What the hell was that about?

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                Helga came out of the locker room about a half-hour after the game in good spirits. West Hillwood had won 74-36, and Helga had finished with nineteen points. "Enjoy the game?" she asked as she approached her friends.

                "Could you even call that a game?" Gerald asked. "Man, I wish we'd win every game like that."

                "Like that will ever happen," she started, but Jake interrupted her. He put an arm around the girl. "Helga, that hurts," he said, putting a hand to his heart in mock pain.

                "I only speak the truth," she said, her cheeks flushing.

                "And you're probably right. Anyways, a couple of us are going to Roman Holiday for pizza when we get back to Hillwood. You wanna come?"

                Her face lit up. "Sure. I'll be kind of late, though. I have to get my car at the high school."

                "Why don't you just come with me?"

                "Thanks, but I usually go home with Gerald, Phoebe, and Arnold. I'll just meet you there."

                "Okay, great." Jake suddenly seemed aware that the other three were standing with him and Helga. "You guys can come too, if you want."

                Gerald's eyes narrowed. "That's okay. Helga, you ready to go?"

                "Yeah. I'll see you in a bit, Jake," she said as they left.

                "Bye, Helga."

                Arnold smiled slightly. Helga was not a person to desert her friends. Then again, they were planning to go to Rhonda's and watch movies. He was frustrated with himself. Why do I think she can only hang out with us?

                "Earth to Football Head!"

                "Huh?"

                Helga shook her head. "He's back.  Let's go." They left the school and headed to the parking lot. Arnold saw a Lincoln High cheerleader and was reminded that he needed to talk to Gerald. "Uh, Phoebe? Can I sit up front with Gerald? I need to talk to him about something."

                "Sure, Arnold. I want to talk about the pageant with Helga anyways."

                "Great," Helga said as she got into the back seat. Arnold guessed that the excitement of getting to be the star in the performance had all ready worn off and Helga was back to loathing it. Gerald pulled out onto the street and headed back towards West Hillwood High. "What do you want to talk to me about that couldn't wait?"

                "Can you turn the radio up?"

                Gerald gave him a confused look and increased the volume and switched the stereo so that most of the sound went to the back seat. "What is it?"

                "Lila came on to me at the game."

                Gerald's jaw dropped. "What did you do?"

                "I ran."

                "Smart boy. What exactly did she say?"

                "I don't really remember. I was planning my escape. But I got the message."

                Gerald shook his head. "Don't tell Helga. She'll go nuts and try to jump the girl."

                Arnold leaned his head up against the window. "I know, but why did she suddenly show interest in me?"

                "I don't know, but if I was you, I would try to avoid Lila."

                Arnold nodded, but he was still extremely confused. What was Lila up to?

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                Arnold swallowed the disgusting coffee as he waited for Helga to pick him up. He even though he did not like coffee, he needed caffeine to wake him up. Unfortunately, he did not have time to make a fresh cup, so he drank what was left from Grandpa's pot, and which was lukewarm black coffee. Arnold looked at the cup for a moment, debating rather or not to finish it. The taste in his mouth got the best of him, and he ran inside, threw the mug in the sink, and shoved a piece of Big Red gum in his mouth, only to get a worse taste in his mouth. The horn honked as he started towards the bathroom to brush his teeth again, so he tried to suck it up and chew through the pain. He went outside to the car only to find Helga sipping on a steaming mocha latté. His eyes narrowed.

                "Sorry I'm late. I had to stop at work to make sure that Mr. Higgins knew I was not working today."

                Mr. Higgins was Helga's boss at The Oleander café where she worked, normally a couple days during the week and on weekends, but because of the pageant she had to cut down on her hours. Arnold's eyes moved from Helga's to her coffee. "Can I have a bit?"

                She shot him a dirty look. "Get your own." Arnold glared back and slouched in his seat with his arms crossed. It was not a good start to the day. 

Helga sensed his bad mood, and tried to make him feel better. "So, how was the movie last night?"

                "Fine. How was pizza?"

                "Great. They have the best pepperoni pizza ever. I was in heaven. I can't believe I had never gone there before."

                "Helga, we went there about a month ago with Gerald."

                "Really? Huh. I guess I forgot."

                Arnold slid farther down into the seat. He was not going to enjoy this day. It was nearly nine, and he was supposed to work on the set and other various things until three. At least Helga was in a good mood. That was one less thing for him to worry about.

                Helga pulled into the parking lot, and the two walked into the Omni Theater in silence. Josh and Callie were waiting for them in the lobby. They exchanged good mornings, then good byes and see you laters, and went their separate ways, the girls to the practice studios, the boys to the stage.

                "Thank God you came. I'm not sure how much longer I could have lasted."

                "What? You mean with Josh? What happened?" Helga asked as she and Callie walked.

                "The boy kept talking about some party that we were at a couple of months ago. Like I am supposed to remember who was at every party I go do. I mean, does he think that I only went to that party and fell madly in love with him. I mean c'mon, I've gone to millions of parties since that one."

                Helga laughed. "Why may I ask are you laughing?" Callie asked.

                "Because that sounded like something Lila would say."

                Callie stopped dead in her tracks. "I cannot believe you just said that," she said, and playfully shoved Helga into practice studio 1A, the main one. Five other girls and one extremely gay looking middle-aged man stared at them. "Uh, where is everyone?" Callie finally asked.

                The man spoke in a slightly high, very snooty voice. "Mrs. Chadwick has already dismissed all the girls, who are practicing with their instructors. You would have known that had you been on time."

                Helga looked at the clock. They were barely five minutes late. "Excuse us," she said as she and Callie left. "Crap," they said as they ran to studio 3A where they had practiced walking last Wednesday with Samson. The other three girls were sitting in folding chairs across from Dan, who was standing with his arms crossed and very pissed off expression on his face. He was not even trying to hide his annoyance. The two girls sat down in the remaining two chairs as Samson said, "We are so glad you could grace us with your presence, Miss Hayeworth and Miss Pataki. Now then, today we will be practicing your entrances again and your talents, but for now we will be working on the proper way to respond during an interview. Now, you need to be polite, soft-spoken, and well spoken. Do not us any of that atrocious slang that clouds your everyday speech like LA smog. Try to be direct and to the point. You will get more points if you appear to be able to think well on your feet. Look directly at the judges and—". Helga was already starting to lose concentration. The clock read 9:10. She sighed dejectedly. _Only five hours and fifty minutes,_ she thought. _Only five hours and fifty minutes. Only five hours and forty-nine minutes. . ._

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                Arnold listened carefully to Kyle, the lead crew chief at the Omni. He and his crew had helped build nearly all of the sets that had been used for the Miss Hillwood Pageant for the last five years. He liked their ideas, and said that though it was going to be a lot of work, it they would be able to do it. He had brought a lot of lumber so they could start building the steps, and he had also brought many podiums that would be used for the jazz band members that were going to play at the pageant to rest their sheet music on. The podiums needed to be sanded, primed, and painted. Arnold had half of the group working on the steps and the rest, including himself and Josh, working on the podiums.

                "So, what were you and Callie talking about when Helga and I walked in?" Arnold asked after he was done with the sander and could actually talk to Josh.

                "She could not remember me at first, but after a bit she said she did. She remembered me, Arnold!"

                Arnold just shook his head. He had a feeling that Callie did not really remember him, and maybe had never seen him before Thursday, and had only said so because she wanted to be polite and try not to hurt the poor guy's feelings. She had looked awfully relieved when he and Helga entered the theater, and she did not have to be alone with Josh anymore. Arnold did not understand. He supposed Josh was attractive, he was about two inches taller then Arnold with light brown hair and hazel eyes, but he guessed that the boy acted slightly desperate around Callie, and no girl wants to date a desperate guy. He laughed hollowly. Lila sure had not. He looked over at the other boy, who was still going on and on about the girl who probably thought he was pathetic. Arnold was again reminded of Lila. As Stinky would say, it was a sad, sad state of affairs.

                After an hour, Arnold had just finished one coat of primer on the same podium. The others working on the podiums were just as far, and progress on the stairs was not going well. Kyle had left to go buy lights and electrical equipment to put on the fronts of the steps, leaving his assistances to work with the feuding teenagers, who after a promising meeting on Thursday were back to hating each other. He started sanding another podium, trying to block out the fighting, and the others followed in suit, but somehow their yelling was still able to be heard over eight sanders. What have I gotten myself into? Arnold wondered. 

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                After nearly two hours of practicing how to walk and talk properly, Helga thought she had finally had a chance to relax as Samson told them they could go out in the hall or stay in the room to practice their talent routines. Helga and Callie started towards the hall to "practice", with all intentions of talking, but Samson called her back as she reached the door. "Miss Pataki, would you please join me at the piano?"

                The piano was in an office that was joined to the studio. Helga walked in and coldly asked, "What I am going to do now?"

                "Sing," he said, placing some music sheets on the piano.

                "Sing what?"

                He glared at her as he shoved papers into her hands. "'All that Jazz.' You got the main singing part, did you not?"

                "Yes, but—"

                "Well, I figured that I should take it upon myself to make sure you don't completely screw up."

                "'Screw up?' What a fine choice of words." The man preaches for an hour about how we should never use slang, and what does he say? Criminey. "And why are you making this your responsibility?"

                He did not answer but began to play the opening notes to the song. She did not sing, so he repeated the opening. After going through this process four times, he slammed his hands on the piano. "Miss Pataki! Would you stop acting like a child and practice! I will not let you embarrass me in front of everyone!"

                "Embarrass you! I thought I was the one in the damn pageant! Would you get over yourself for once? No one will even know you had anything to do with my progress and performance, and even if they do, how many will care?"

                He stared fiercely at her. "Fine. You are on your own. I am going to help the other contestants who actually want to win." He left her alone. The silence was deafening. She pulled off her sweatshirt and used it to stifle the sound as she screamed into it. She was kicking herself. Why do I always push people away when all they are trying to do is help me? She pounded her fists on the keys. Helga noticed that Samson had left the sheet music. She sighed and sat down on the piano bench. The song did not look too difficult. Helga began to play and when she was comfortable with her playing, she began to sing. "C-C'mon babe, why don't we paint the town? And all that jazz.I'm gonna rouge my knees and roll my stockings down." She grimaced as her fingers slipped, and she hit the wrong notes. "I'm gonna rouge my knees and roll my stockings down. And all that jazz. Start the car I know a whoopee spot." Helga stopped. She had squeaked as she tried to hit the high note. "Start the car I know a whoopee spot, Where the gin is cold but the piano's hot." She continued through the song with numerous missed notes on both her singing and playing. Frustrated, she banged her head on the keys. "Ow," she yelled aloud.

                "You know, for a girl as smart as you, you have very bad judgment and little common sense."

                Helga raised her head and stared at Samson, who was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his face blank instead of covered in his normal annoyed sneer. "That's about the lot of it," she said.

                "You play well."

                She shrugged. "It runs in the family, I guess. My sister is a concert pianist in Toronto."

                He nodded. "The famous, talented, and award winning Olga Pataki. I figured you were her sister, but I've met your father, and he has never mentioned a younger sister."

                Helga remained emotionless. "He rarely does," she whispered.

                "Pardon?"

                "Um, when did you meet my dad?"

                "I was a judge in the pageant when your sister won, another favor for Mrs. Chadwick. Trust me, I hate this thing as much as you do. I saw your dad after the banquet when I was looking for a new cell phone." He eyed Helga. "Your dad went on and on about all of Olga's accomplishments and awards and how proud he and your mom are of her." He waited for Helga to comment, but she said nothing. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I thought that it might be easier if I would play, and you would only have to sing." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Okay, I was trying to help Charlotte with her singing after I had to haul another piano into the room," Helga smirked. "But I quickly discovered she sings like a dying cat." He shook his head. "I am going to have to find a way to tell her she needs a new talent."

                Helga smiled slightly. "Fine." Samson took her seat on the piano bench and Helga stood and sang in front of the piano and did much better this time through.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                After a hellish six hours, Arnold walked out of the main theater and into the lobby to wait for Helga. It seemed like they had not gotten anything done, and when it seemed like they did, some one would get another idea or would discover that it was done wrong, and five more tasks were added to the hefty to-do list. He flopped down into one of the fluffy chairs and closed his eyes. All he wanted to do was go to bed and not get up until noon the next day. When he opened them a couple of minutes later, a very exhausted Helga G. Pataki was slowly making her way towards him. "Tiring day?" he asked as he got up.

                "Yes." She pushed the door open and walked out into the icy February wind. "I thought I was in amazing shape, but we had to dance for three hours. My legs are killing me."

                "Yeah, well you haven't spent the day sanding and priming and nailing boards together." He closed his eyes again as he waited for Helga to start the car. "This is going to take forever."

                Helga looked at him. "Well, is it going to look good?"

                "It should if we don't completely screw it up."

                "Then don't worry about it. All your hard work will be worth it when you see the finished product."

                His eyes snapped open. "Who are you, and where is the real Helga?"

                "A forty-four year-old convict who escaped from Sing Sing last month, but don't worry, you are in good hands." They rolled their eyes in unison. "I can think positively every once in a while."

                "Sure you can," he said sarcastically.

                She smiled. "You are probably right. I think it is the hunger talking. All they fed us was a small salad and bottled water. And when I say small, I say microscopic. I think I lost five pounds today. Honestly, how do they expect us to be able to work when they feed us rabbit food?"

                "I dunno. I ate a sub at the deli down the street from the Omni."

                Helga glared at him. "Well, goody goody for you, but I am starving." She pulled into The Oleander café's parking lot. "Chow time."

                They sat at a table for two beside the window. Helga dove into her tuna fish sandwich, fruit salad, and orange smoothie. Arnold's eyes got the best of him and he ate a chicken sandwich, a bag of potato chips, a frozen yogurt, and strawberry smoothie. When she finally came up for air, Helga asked, "I thought you ate sub."

                "I did."

                "So why are you eating again?"

                "I'm hungry. That's the idea of food. You eat when you are hungry."

                She shrugged. "I just hope you can keep all that food down tonight."

                He took another large bite of his sandwich. "Why?"

                Helga stopped and stared at him, a fork full of fruit about an inch from her mouth. "Uh, you have a game tonight against Concordia."

                Arnold dropped his sandwich. Over the course of the day he had forgotten about it. Suddenly he had no appetite. "Don't tell me you forgot?"

                "I was busy today. Shit."

                Helga reached across the table and stole Arnold's yogurt. "I'm sure you'll be fine," she said, eating a large spoonful.

                Arnold was beginning to get butterflies in his stomach. _I hope so_, he thought.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                "Get the ball back, get the ball back, get the ball back. Get the ball back, get the ball back, get the ball back," the West Hillwood cheerleaders yelled, and their chant was quickly followed by mass cheers and applause, but from the other side of the gym. Arnold watched helplessly from the bench as a Concordia player made a short jumper, tying the score at 68 all West Hillwood. Arnold groaned. They had been up by ten a minute ago, and worse yet was their starting point guard, Michael Wallace, had fouled the shooter, and it was his fifth foul. His coach grabbed him by the shoulder. "Arnold, you're in. Play smart and whatever you do, don't turn the ball over!" He shoved Arnold towards the stat table to check in. "Seven for fourteen," he said. 

                "You have number twelve. He's damn fast, Arnold, so don't let him get past you or you're dead." Michael continued towards the bench and threw a towel over his head as the crowd cheered for him.

                Arnold looked up at the clock as the Concordia player got ready to shoot. There was a minute and fifty-eight seconds remaining. The shooter sunk the shot, and gave Concordia their first lead of the night. The two teams matched each other basket for basket and seesawed the lead back and forth for the next minute and a half. After Jake missed a three, Concordia's best player grabbed the rebound and made a lay-up at the other end, giving Concordia the lead, 75-74. "Time out," Arnold said to the referee, and he flung himself into one of the chairs. _We can't lose_, he thought. _We can't loose._

                "Arnold," a voice said behind him.

                Arnold jumped and turned around. Helga was sitting behind him, which was odd because the junior varsity team always sat behind the team bench and West Hillwood students sat in the students' section across the gym. "Helga, what are you doing? Coach is trying to talk to us!" he hissed.

                "Look, Arnold, when you get the ball, take your time going up the court to waste the clock. Pass the ball to Gerald when he's on your right. His defender hasn't been able to keep up with him the whole game, and he has four fouls. The guy wants to be the hero and make the winning shot, so he won't be all over Gerald."

                "Pass when he's on my right?"

                "Yeah. Twelve's guarding you, right?"

                "Yeah."

                "He's anticipating you to go to your left since you are left handed, and he's been cheating that way each time. Pass fake and dish it to Gerald."

                The buzzer sounded. "You're sure?"

                "Yes." She sat back, getting some rather odd looks from the JV team.

                "Team!" the players yelled, and Arnold went over everything Helga had just said. Jake walked over to Arnold. "Look, just give it to me. I'll make it. Just give it to me." Arnold glared at Jake's retreating back. Jake had not scored the whole second half. Why did he think he could make it now? Gerald, on the other hand, had not missed a shot the whole quarter. He caught the inbound pass and dribbled up the court. He took his time and wasted about eight seconds, leaving twelve seconds left. He faked left as Gerald cut towards the wing on his right. Arnold quickly passed it to him and Gerald shot a long two. The ball rattled around the rim and finally fell with five seconds left. Concordia tried to get the ball down court as quickly as possible, but Arnold stole the inbound pass and held it as time ran out. He threw the ball into the air and ran towards his teammates, who were quickly joined by the West Hillwood student body who had rushed the floor after the buzzer. Gerald was really the hero of the game, but Arnold supposed that he was a little one as well.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                "To Arnold and Gerald, for one hell of a pass and one hell of a shot!"

                It was an hour and a half later, and Arnold, Gerald, Helga, Phoebe, Rhonda, Lorenzo, Harold, Stinky, Sid, and a few more of their friends from school were at Pizza Hut. Helga was giving a toast to the two. "Here, here!" everyone yelled.

                Arnold stood up. "To Helga, for telling me what to do and for reminding me that I even had a game today."

                "Here, here!"

                Arnold finished his third slice of pepperoni pizza, now able to eat again (he had thrown up a bit from nerves before the game). In a battle of undefeated teams, West Hillwood had come out on top, and it was great. "So, Helga, have I finally found out how to play basketball?"

                She smiled broadly. "No. You still needed me to tell you what to do."

                His shoulders drooped, and he hung his head. "Thanks, Helga."

                She laughed. "Relax, Football Head. You executed that perfectly. I suppose you improved a bit, but Stinky and I will still be the crap out of you tomorrow."

                He eyed her. "You wanna bet?"

                She looked interested. "What does the winner get?"

                "Free triple fudge brownie deluxe sundae at Oleanders, courtesy of the loser."

                She shook his hand. "You're on. How can I say no to a free triple fudge brownie deluxe sundae?"

                "You haven't won yet."

                She winked at him. "No, but we will. Aren't we going to cream Gerald and Arnold tomorrow, Stinky?"

                "We sure are. Those fellers don't have a chance to beat us, Helga," Stinky said with his mouth full.

                "I don't think so. Me and my man Arnold are on the victory train and there aren't any stops for a long time," Gerald shot back, starting an argument between the two boys.

                Arnold grabbed another piece of pizza. Life was good.

A/N: This chapter is finally done, mainly because Atlanta got their asses kicked, and it was making me sick to watch, so I channeled my anger into this chapter ^_~. I had a lot of inspiration for this chapter, mainly from the movie _Whatever it Takes _ (a great movie, I highly recommend it). I hope to update by next Saturday, but it might be longer because I am starting a massive term paper for English and that will take up **a lot** of my time. I hate school. Anyways, the next chapter is "It Takes Two to Tango," at least I think that is what it will be called. I am off to watch _Breakfast at Tiffany's._ Later Days.


	7. It Takes Two to Tango

A/N: I am sorry that it has been so long since I have updated. This is partly due to sickness, homework, tests, that damn English paper, writer's block, and a period where I had no motivation to do anything. But I am back and hopefully you will like this chapter. I have also decided that I would rather stay up late and write than get my beauty sleep and only spend my days during the week on school, because let's face it, school sucks.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold!

Quote: _"Sometimes I get to a point when I don't give a damn about anything anymore. Sometimes I get to a point where I feel numb, and I just don't care." _– Everclear, "Songs from an American Movie pt. 2." That's how I feel at the moment about school, but I only have about five weeks left, then I am free for almost three months.

Where to Begin

Chapter 7 – It Takes Two to Tango

                "Swing, swing from the tangles of my heart. Been scratched by a former love. Can you help me find a way to carry on again," Helga sang softly as she wiped the counter at The Oleander. She brushed a piece of her long blonde hair out of her face and stuffed it back into the black clip that held back the rest of her hair. It had been a busy day but things were beginning to slow down as lunch hour past. She glanced at the clock. 3:44. Helga smiled. She was supposed to get of work in sixteen minutes. That would leave her with enough time to get home, change, and go to the school for her basketball game with Stinky, Gerald, and Arnold. She turned to the back counter and began to clean it, quietly humming "All That Jazz." Caught up in the music, Helga began to sing softly the words and also began to dance a little. She was moving without restraint when the door opened, which, of course, she was oblivious to.

                "I didn't know you worked here."

                Helga stopped instantly and slowly turned around, her cheeks burning. Jake was leaning towards her, his elbows propped on the front counter. "Uh, I was just practicing for the pageant," she said quickly as she refilled the napkin dispenser.

                 "Don't stop on my account," he said, smiling broadly at her. Helga felt the corners of her mouth twitch. She couldn't help but feel all giddy and happy inside when he was near her. She had not felt like that since . . .well, for a long time. "That's okay. I've had enough practice for today. Do you want anything?"

                "Besides to talk to a very cute blonde, just a frozen lemonade."

                Helga blushed again as she got his drink. "$4.14."

                He raised his eyebrows. "Ouch. Don't you have a sexy basketball star discount?" he asked as he handed her the money.

                "Yeah, but we haven't had any come in for a long time."

                Jake shook his head. "You're killing me, Helga."

                She shrugged. "You should see what I do to Gerald and Arnold."

                He ate a spoonful of the lemonade. "Those two could use some humbling after yesterday's game."

                Helga, who had been cleaning the cappuccino machine, looked back at him and raised an eyebrow. "Why do you say that? They made the game winning play."

                "So? They need to remember their place."

                "What do you mean?"

                "I told Arnold to pass it to me. I'm captain, a senior, and one of the best players in our conference. But no, he passed it to his junior bosom-buddy, Johansson."

                "But Gerald was on fire in the fourth," she slowly continued. "If my memory serves me right, you missed all your shots and made four turnovers in the second half."

                He paused, as if he was not aware he had played so poorly. "It's the principal of the thing."

                Helga rolled her eyes when she turned back to the machine. _What a jerk_, she thought.

                "But enough about him. Arnold's not exactly my favorite topic of conversation."

                "Then what is?" she asked, facing him.

                He leaned forward. "Movies."

                "Movies?"

                "Yeah, movies. As in you, me, two medium sodas, and an extra large popcorn."

                Helga felt her cheeks redden, but she was too excited to care. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

                "Only if you say yes. Otherwise this is just general conversation."

                "Of course," she said. Helga could not help but think how cute he was when he was trying to protect his ego. She decided to let him sweat it out for a bit, partly because she wanted to be in control and partly because when she was looking deeply into his hazel eyes, like she was now, she forgot everything else.

                "So?" he half asked, half pleaded.

                "So?" she mocked.

                He leaned even closer to her so that their noses were almost touching. "What do you think about it?"

                She leaned closer, if that was possible. "Well, I supp—"

                "Pataki!"

                Helga and Jake both jumped, causing the two to bump heads. "Ow," they said simultaneously. Helga looked at Ray, the head cook. "What is it, Ray?" she snapped.

                He laughed. "You better not be giving free food to lover boy over there," he said, gesturing towards the boy at the counter. Jake broke into a big grin, which widened as Helga turned forty shades of red. "I'm not giving away free food!" she shot, her voice on an edge.

                "Good. I'll leave you two, non-free-food eating love birds alone." Ray went back to the kitchens, singing, "Young people in love are very seldom hungry," as he walked.

                Helga made a mental note to kill him later. She turned back to Jake. "Sorry 'bout that."

                "'S okay, but you never answered my question."

                "Oh, right." She eyed him carefully. His eyes were pleading for her to say yes. Ohmigod, Jake Richardson is crazy about me. Me, Helga G. Pataki! She feel into one of her love struck trances.

                "Helga, are you okay?"

                She slapped herself and smiled at him. "Sounds great."

                "Well alright. I got to go, but I'll call you later so we can smooth out the details. I'll see ya, gorgeous," he called as he went to the door.

                "Bye," she said, waving slightly. He blew her a kiss before he left. Helga waited until Jake was out of sight when she squealed. Ray ran out of the kitchen towards her. "Helga? What happened?" he cried, looking her over to make sure she was all right.

                "I have a date with the cutest senior at school!" she screamed. Ray just shook his head as Helga resumed dancing around the café. "Oh, I'm no one's wife, but OH I LOVE MY LIFE, and all that jazz!" she sang at the top of her lungs. He eyes caught sight of the clock. 4:20. "Oh, shit!" she cried. She throw her dish cloth at Ray.

                "What now?" he asked, thankful no one was in the restaurant to hear Helga's profanity.

                "I'm late," she grabbed her purse and coat from behind the counter. "See ya later!"

                He stared at the sprinting teenager and was surprised she did not leave burn marks on the floor. "I don't want to be within ten feet of what ever that girls is on."

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                Arnold lamely shot a three from the wing. Brick. Gerald grabbed the rebound and shot a short jumper, which missed as well. "This is crap. Where is she?"

                "She had to work until four. She probably got caught up in traffic or at home."

                "Yeah, because traffic's a bitch at four on a Sunday, and her parents smother her so much she can't get away from them for a second." Gerald rolled his eyes. "No, she bailed for some reason." He smirked. "Maybe she was afraid to lose of the Dream Team."

                Arnold grinned, but Stinky threw the ball at the other boy's head. "Yeah, right, Gerald. You two may have made the winning play against Concordia, but you still don't stand a chance against me and Helga."

                Gerald glared back at Stinky. "Right, because the hick from St. Lick and Helga, Queen of the Mutants, are unstoppable. Arnold and I can beat you any time. We are on the victory train, and there are no stops for a long time."

                "I hope you got something to back that mouth of yours up," a voice called from a silver Accord. Helga stepped out and stared at them. "Because I've seen everything you two got, and believe me, it ain't much." She walked towards them, and the boys were rendered momentarily speechless. Helga was still Helga, but it was hard to ignore the blonde when her better-than-Britney body was shown off by her tight white blouse and short black mini skirt, the general attire for female workers at The Oleander (It was not anything sexist. Women where supposed to wear white blouses and black skirts of any length. Helga's aunt Lydia bought her the stylish clothes, and Helga could care less as long as she did not have to buy them herself or go shopping with Miriam). Black heels finished the effect of Helga's mesmerizing legs. Gerald was the first to snap out of it and torment her. "Ooh, Helga, where have you been keeping your sexy self?"

                Arnold saw her jaw twitch and her fists clinch as she walked closer to them. She stopped in front of Gerald and looked back and forth between her fists. "Who would you like today? Old Betsy has not gotten much action lately, but it's your call."

                Arnold could not tell if she was serious or just joking, so he stepped in between the two. "Where have you been?" he asked.

                She pulled her black pea coat (another gift from Aunt Lydia), which came just above the hem of her skirt, tighter around her as an icy breeze blew by. "I, uh, got tied up at work."

                None of the boys questioned her excuse, though Gerald thought it was lame. "Great. Pataki can't get her butt out of work, so now we can't play. Thanks."

                "Gerald, give Helga a break. It's not like she chose to have to stay after," Arnold said. Helga was glad that he was looking at Gerald and not her. She would not have been able to meet his gaze.

                Gerald rolled his eyes. "Fine," he snapped. "I guess we'll just play next week." He stared at Helga, his eyes narrowed. "You're lucky. Arnold and I would have creamed you."

                Helga shrugged. "Whatever you say, hairboy."

                He glared at her for a moment, and then started walking to his car. "C'mon, Arnold. See ya, Stinky."

                Stinky turned to Helga. "I'm gonna shoot a little, so I'll see you at school tomorrow."

                She nodded. "I'm sorry about being late."

                He smiled broadly at her. "Aw, shucks, Helga, don't worry much about it. It was really awful nice of you to spare these fellers the humiliation of us beating them again." He punched her lightly in the arm. "We'll just have to knock the stuffing out of them next week."

                Helga grinned. "Deal."

                "Bye, Helga," he said as he returned to shooting. Helga walked over to Arnold, who had been waiting to talk to her. "Maybe you shouldn't keep Geraldo waiting. He might burst a blood vessel or something."

                Arnold looked from her to Gerald and back to her. "He's just mad because he and Phoebe had a fight."

                Helga's grin disappeared. "It's nothing serious, is it?"

                Arnold shook his head. "I don't think so, but he's still upset."

                "HEY ARNOLD! I don't have all day!" Gerald called from his car. Arnold sighed. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Helga."

                "Yeah, bye," she said as he walked away. She had an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach that made her feel awful. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and walked to her car. She would not think about it now, and the best way to do that was to go for a long drive. She put in her Finch CD and sped away.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                "All right, class, as you all know, February is Black History Month, and in honor of that I am assigning a short project," Mr. Phegley said the moment after the bell rang.

                The entire class groaned. Helga turned to Arnold and said, "Great. Another thing to worry about."

                Arnold shrugged. "At least we don't have to listen to him for a couple days," he said, though he deeply disliked the idea of coming to U.S. History first thing on a Monday morning, something he hated anyway, only to be greeted with what would most likely be a time consuming project. He rested his chin in his hand and listened to the older man as he continued, his normally good mood quickly turning sour. Time was not something that he had a lot of these days. He stared more carefully at Mr. Phegley. Something was different about him today.

                "Now, now, calm down. It's just a little project. You can work with a partner. You and your partner will give a eight to ten minute speech over a famous African American of you choice, and you will need a minimum of two visual aids."

                A girled named Lyndsie raised her hand. "Do we get to pick out partners?"

                "Yes, of course," Mr. Phegley said.

                Marshall Phelps waved his hand from the front row. Marshall was one of those kids who deliberately sat in the seat that was front and center in the classroom and brown-nosed up to the teacher to the point when most of the other students wanted to throw up. Then again, it might help because Marshall was number two in their class rank, which was very good because there were a little more than six hundred kids in the junior class. On the other hand, Helga rarely paid attention and she was fifth. "When are the projects due?"

                Mr. Phegley scratched his head, and Arnold realized what had been bothering him. On Thursday, and every other day, Mr. Phegley had been bald. Now a thick, black rug of hair was atop his head. Helga must have noticed the toupee because she was snickering beside him. The rest of the class caught on and burst into a sea of laughter. Phegley merely answered, which silenced the students. "Let's see. Tuesday of next week, I believe." He looked at his calendar. "Yes, Tuesday will do just fine."

                The group of tired, angry teenagers began to protest. "You have got to be kidding! We don't have that kind of time!" Helga cried, doing her part.

                "Now we will be spending the rest of class time this week in the library. Well, most of it, at least enough to get a lot of the project done, if you use your time wisely. Now, partner up so you can pick you subjects."

                Arnold turned to Helga. "Partner?" She nodded. "So who do you want to do the project on?"

                She smiled. "Do you even have to ask?"

                Mr. Phegley began to call on people. After the usual were picked, Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, Jackie Robinson, and Rosa Parks, he asked Helga, "Who is your partner, Miss Pataki?"

                "Arnold."

                "And your subject?"

                "Hank Aaron."

                Arnold should have known. Aaron was one of Helga's favorite baseball players. Some of the male population groaned, obviously upset another sports man was gone. Helga just smirked at them, smiling like a cat that had just caught a mouse. The rest of the pairs picked their subjects and the class went to the library to begin their research.

                West Hillwood's Library was huge. It had been large to begin with, but a few years ago an extremely wealthy man had bequeathed a large amount of money to the school after his death. He had been a publisher, so the school decided to use the money to expand the old library. It was now even bigger than the Hillwood Public Library. Arnold immediately walked to the computers to use the catalogs in the computer systems. Helga also got on a computer, but she was currently at amazon.com. "Damn. The new Ataris CD isn't coming out for a  month." She clicked another box. "But the Cowboy Bebop DVDs have gone down in price."

                Arnold did not even look at her. "Are you going to do any work?"

                She clicked on another box. "Yeah, here are a few books. Three of them should be enough, plus information from the Internet, but we can get that at home."

                He stared at her. "How did you do that? You were looking up two things at amazon.com along with books? I was just looking up the books, and I just entered in my keywords."

                She shrugged. "You just have to know what to do with these things."

                "I do know how to use a computer, Helga."

                She finished writing down the call numbers on a sheet of paper. "Sure. Anyways, let's go." She logged off and left, leaving Arnold to slowly log off his computer. He groaned and jogged to catch up with her, earning him a few stares from the librarians and teachers.

                Helga ran her hands along the bookbindings as she walked between two bookshelves. Arnold was behind her, looking more carefully than she for the books they needed. However, he did not really know what they were looking for; he was just searching the books for something relevant. "Are you sure you wrote down the right call numbers?" he asked as he pulled out a book on Otis Redding.

                "Yes, I wrote down the correct call numbers," she hissed. "We're all most there."

                "Where, China?"

                "Yes, Arnoldo, we walked to China without even leaving the library. Isn't technology amazing these days?" she snapped sarcastically. She suddenly stopped, causing him to run into her. "Found it."

                "Do you think you could warn me before you do that?" he asked. Helga ignored him and flipped a few pages. "It's good." She tossed it backwards, hitting Arnold in the head. "One down, two to go," Helga said as she moved forward.

                Arnold had been looking at another book when the large book hit him. He was going to yell at her, but it was no use. She was at another shelf looking for the last book, the second in her arms. Arnold groaned. She can hold the one book but she had to throw the other at me. He picked the book up off the floor. Arnold walked to Helga and stopped behind her. She was reading _I had a Hammer: The Hank Aaron Story_, his autobiography. Arnold smiled and pulled her long ponytail.

                "Ow!" she cried and whipped around to face him. "What the hell—"

                "No yelling in the library."

                "Why you little—"

                "Your book, mademoiselle. I believe you, how shall I put this, misplaced it." He held the book she threw at him out to her.

                Helga stared at him, then at the book. She grinned. "You are such a charmer, aren't you?"

                "I do what I can," he said, but a noise distracted him. "Yeah, the whole thing is ever so ridiculous. I mean, did you see her?"

                Arnold stiffened. That was the last person he wanted to run into, especially since he was with Helga. The voice grew louder as she neared him. Arnold began to panic, so he grabbed Helga's arm and pulled her to and then pushed her into a resource room that was filled to the brink with boxes of old newspapers, magazines, and warn paperbacks. There was just enough room for the two of them, though because of the lack of space they were pressed against each other, chest to chest. While Arnold failed to notice how close they were, since he was more worried about being hidden, Helga was raising holy hell about it. "Arnold! What the hell do you think you are doing? Why the heck did you throw me in here?"

                Arnold managed to put his hand over Helga's mouth. "Be quiet! Do you want her to hear you?" he whispered loudly.

                "Her who? Who are you hiding from?"

                "Lila," he hissed. Arnold looked over his shoulder to see where she was.

                Helga grabbed his chin and pulled his face back towards her. "Why are you hiding form Lila? I mean, she is the selfish narcissistic bitch who deliberately crushed your heart without a second thought, but you can generally tolerate her. I mean, you don't normally shove helpless girls into abandoned storage rooms to avoid her, so why the sudden change?

                Arnold stared coldly at Helga. "Since when have you been helpless?"

                She returned his gaze. "Since football headed boys decided to shove me into a room full of boxes!" She looked out the door, and her eyes widened. "Arnold, please let me go."

                He was confused at her sudden change of expression. Before she had just been extremely annoyed but now she seemed terrified. "Helga, what's wrong?"

                "Jake's over there."

                Jake? Oh, great. "So?"

                "So? What is he sees us? He might not think this looks like innocent hide-and-go-seek."

                Arnold finally realized how they were positioned. The two were pressed against each other with only mere inches between them. His arms were around her waist, since it was the only place he had room to put them, and hers were around his. He looked down at her and was amazed at how beautiful she was up this close. Her dark brown eyes were wide and her cheeks were slightly pink. He could see faint freckles on her across her nose and her cheekbones. A few strands of blonde hair, probably from when he pulled her hair, framed her face. He felt his cheeks burn. She continued on. "My God, you look like you're forcing yourself on me by pinning me up against the boxes."

                He shrugged. "Maybe it will shake up my image," he said softly as if he did not mean to say it aloud.

                Helga looked thoughtful. "Maybe Jake should see us. Then maybe he'll get jealous and step it up a notch between us."

                Arnold looked sternly at her. "What notch is it at?"

                She blushed. "Not high, but he is going to take me out on a date," she said slowly.

                Arnold's jaw dropped. He figured it would take a while before they started dating. Then again, it was Jake, and the boy was known to have done more than just talk to girls on first meetings. "When?"

                "I don't know."

                "So he asked you, but you didn't care enough to listen to when he's taking you?" Maybe she could see through him.

                "No! He just doesn't know when yet."

                "Ah, I see." Arnold rolled his eyes.

                Helga glared at him and was suddenly reminded of the earlier part of their conversation. "Hey! You never answered my question. Why are you hiding from Lila?"

                Arnold flinched at the mention of her name. "Uh, her voice is just really getting on my nerves."

                Helga raised an eyebrow. "You were in love with that voice of hers for six years. Shouldn't you be immune to it or something? And besides, that's a crappy reason. Why are you really avoiding her?"

                Arnold looked deep into her eyes and realized she would not just let this go. "Uh, Lila sort of came on to me."

                Helga's jaw dropped. "What?" she cried loudly.

                "Shh!" He tried to calm her down.

                "When?" she whispered harshly.

                "Friday at your game."

                Helga looked completely disgusted. "I can't believe her! She dumped you last year like last season's Prada shoes, but now that you are on varsity and her boyfriend dumped her she is all over you!" She growled. "I'll take care of her."

                "Helga, I can handle her," Arnold said as he put his hands on her shoulders.

                "Then again I ask you why are you hiding in a storage room?"

                He dropped his hold her and stared at her. Free, Helga slipped by him and picked up the books, which she had dropped outside the room. "I'm going to check these out," she said as she walked away.

                Arnold leaned against the wall. She was right; he should not hide from his problems. Then again, it was easier for her. She actually liked the guy who was chasing her. He grabbed the Otis Redding book as he made his way to the checkout desk. Helga was now talking to Jake. Arnold was leaning against the desk as he waited for someone to help him when someone pinched his butt. He jumped and looked around. His eyes narrowed as his gaze fell on a winking Lila. He turned back to the counter and banged his head on it.

                "Are you okay young man?"

                Arnold slowly looked up at the librarian, who was looking at him as if he needed to be in a padded cell. At this point, he would dance the Charleston as they led him away, but he would never be that lucky. "Just a little stress," he said as he pushed the book towards her. That's the understatement of the year.

                "You poor thing. You know, when I am stressed out, I take a long bubble bath with candles, green tea, and my favorite romance novel. It relaxes me and takes all my stress away."

                Arnold could not believe that he was listening to his forty-something librarian talk about bubble bathes. He clamped his eyes shut to try to get the disturbing images out of his head. He grabbed the book from her hands as she stared to give it to him. "Uh, thanks," he said as he quickly moved away from her.

                "No problem!" she called after him. Luckily the bell rang, and he could escape. Arnold was out the door when a small arm wrapped itself around his own. Lila dropped her books on top of his and pulled him the opposite direction of his locker, which was where he needed to go. "Oh, Arnold, I was hoping I could find an ever so wonderful guy to walk me to my French class."

                Arnold felt he was being led to the electric chair. "Uh, Lila, I really have to go to my locker," Arnold said as he tried desperately to pull his arm free, but he was drowned out by Lila's latest gossip. They finally made it to her class two minutes before the bell was supposed to ring. Helga was already in her seat, reading one of the Hank Aaron books. She gave him a look that clearly meant what the heck are you doing? Help me, he mouthed. Helga was about to stand up and come to his rescue when Lila kissed him on the cheek. Helga stopped. Arnold stared at Lila, stunned. The whole class was staring at them. Lila grabbed her books. "Thanks, Arnold." He stood still, just blinking at her. "You better get to class."

                Arnold looked at the clock. "Crap!" he cried as he ran out the door. He had to run across the school and up stairs to get to his drawing class. "Sorry," he yelled as he nearly took out one of the secretaries. He went up the steps two at a time, suddenly grateful for the hundreds of stair laps he had run over the years for soccer, basketball, and baseball. He slid in the room just as the bell rang and as his teacher Mrs. Douglas was shutting the door. He put his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. 

                "Nice of you to join us. Please take your seat." She said and began talking about how to draw faces. When he was able to move his legs again, Arnold walked to his desk and sat down in something wet and gooey. He jumped up. A puddle of green paint was lying there from the last class. Thankfully he was beside the sink and no one was paying attention to him (or Mrs. Douglas for that matter), and he tried to clean up the best he could. He pulled of his sweatshirt and tied it around his waist to cover up the paint on his butt. He banged his head on his desk. "Can this day get any worse?"

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                Helga whipped sweat for her forehead. It had been another tiring day of dancing, plus basketball practice had run long so she had not had time to clean up before she came to the Omni. She watched as the tech crew, or at least the male members of the tech crew, walked into the practice studio. Arnold sat down beside her. "Hey."

                She looked behind him. "Looks clean." Arnold turned bright red and glared at her. Helga laughed. She had spent the latter part of the school day and most of the ride to the theater making fun of Arnold and his colorful posterior. "You know, I think you've done that to death," he said blandly.

                "Yeah, I guess. I'll just have to go back to making fun of your head."

                Arnold continued to glare at her, and Helga continued to laugh at him. Mrs. Chadwick suddenly piped up, "As you all know, you will be attending a banquet in your honor after the pageant. We wanted to prepare you for it by practicing ballroom dancing with some of the tech crewmembers. Now, I know that there are only nine boys and there are twenty girls, but the assistances will also help so there will only be a few of you not practicing at a time. So, Miss Sheltie, take us away."

                She started playing a tango. Helga turned to Arnold and asked, "Partner?"

                "Sure."

                Callie was going to ask Reese, the boy from Franklin High School, but Josh cut in. Callie looked very annoyed, but Josh looked like he was living his dream. Helga and Arnold laughed at the two. She turned to Arnold. "Well, this reminds you of something, doesn't it?"

                Arnold smiled at the memory of April Fool's Day in fourth grade when he and Helga tangoed at the April Fool's Day Dance. He grabbed her tightly around the waist and pulled her close to him. "Yeah, and don't worry, you're in good hands."

                Helga laughed and playfully put her hands slightly lower than his waist. Funny, it did not really bother him when Helga put her hands on his butt. "At least I can 'see' you this time."

                They began dancing, but it did not go as smoothly as it had the last time.

                "Ow."

                "Sorry."

                "Ow."

                "Sorry."

                "OW!"

                "Sorry."

                "Helga, do you think you could stop stepping on my feet?"

                "I'm trying," she said as she stepped on his left foot. Arnold began spinning her slightly every time she came close to stepping on him, but she managed to do it anyways. "Sorry," she said through a fit of laughter.

                "You know, generally it's the _guy_ who steps on the _girl's_ feet, not the other way around."

                "I guess you're just the lucky one," she said as she stepped on his right foot. She was half-trying to now.

                "Helga!"

                "Sorry!"

                "Can't you try to be dainty or something?"

                "I am dainty."

                "You are about as dainty as Harold Berman."

                Helga deliberately stomped on his foot this time, but he anticipated it and moved his foot at the last second. Helga slipped and fell. Arnold caught her inches off the ground. He looked down at her. "Sorry."

                She laughed. "It's okay. Just don't drop me. We aren't very good dancing partners, are we?"

                "I guess not," he laughed as well.

                "Well, that is a new way to dip someone."

                Arnold and Helga looked up at Mrs. Chadwick, who was glaring at them. Arnold helped Helga up. "Arnold, you have a visitor." She stepped aside to reveal Jake.

                He handed a book to Arnold. "You forgot this in the locker room." He turned to Helga. "What are you doing?"

                "We're practicing ballroom dancing for a banquet, but Arnold and I can't do it without laughing and screwing the whole thing up."

                "I could practice with you, if you want."

                Helga's eyes lit up. "Sure, I mean, you don't mind, do you Arnold?"  
                He stared at her. Of course he minded, but she looked so happy. "No, go ahead. It's not like we were getting much done anyways." Jake put his arms around her, and she mouthed, thank you.

                "Well, than Arnold, you can work with Miss Sawyer."

                Lila walked up beside him, "Howdy, partner."

                Arnold groaned and reluctantly put his arms around her. "You know, they really are a cute couple," Lila whispered.

                "Who?"

                "Oh, Arnold, you are ever so silly. Helga and Jake, of course. I mean, Helga's so blonde so she looks great with Jake since he's the tall, dark, and handsome type. They look amazing together, and you can tell they are crazy about each other."

                Arnold looked at the two. They were talking quietly, but every now and then Helga would giggle. There was no denying how she felt about him. Helga had dated some in high school, but she had never been head-over-heels like she was with Jake. He sighed. Helga and Jake were together now, and he was just going to have to get used to it . . .no matter how much he hated it.

A/N: Happy Easter! The "The Multitalented Helga G. Pataki" is up next. I am hoping to have it done by the end of April, but we shall see. As always, later days.


	8. The Multitalented Helga G Pataki

A/N: I am taking a break from homework and researching my English paper (we are currently working on note cards, which is the most boring thing I have done in that class this year. Wait, I take that back. My teacher once spent a whole class period, which is eighty minutes, talking about the history of basketball in my state. I had never hated school and basketball as much as I did at that moment), so I hope you enjoy this because it is coming at the expense of my sleep. ^_^ Actually, I don't care. I can function on minimal amounts of sleep. I used to stay up until two in the morning because I wanted to watch Inuyasha, Yu Yu Hakoshu, and Cowboy Bebop (yes, I have no life). Also, I am, for once, in a good mood, because the other night I watched my favorite South Park episode. It was the one where Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman go to Afghanistan. Classic. Seriously.

I'd also like to quickly note that yesterday was the birthday of a great man, Chipper Jones, and another great man, Andruw Jones, had a birthday the day before. Happy Birthday boys, and keep up the division titles!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold! because if I did I would be a lot happier (well, maybe. You know what they say: Mo' money, mo' problems, though I have no money and I still have a lot of problems).

Where to Begin

Chapter 8 – The Multitalented Helga G. Pataki

            "I really hate dresses." Helga looked in the mirror with a disgusted look on her face. She tilted her head in an attempt to see if she appeared this awful from every angle, and to her dismay she realized she was right.

            Callie wandered over to her. "You look fine."

            "I do not like fine. I look like a drag queen."

            Callie also tilted her head and looked at the frowning blonde. "Now that you mention it . . ." Helga shot a dirty look at the other girl. Callie laughed. "I'm joking. You look fine."

            "No, I look like a guy in a green dress." She sighed. Today the all girls were trying on dresses so they could decide what they were going to wear at the beginning of the pageant. The dress Helga had on was simple. It was a one shoulder, emerald green dress with sparkles that had an angled bottom, starting at mid-thigh on her left leg and ended below her right knee. She glared at her reflection. "I look awful."

            "Hello! Have you looked at me?" Callie cried. Helga finally glanced at the other girl. She was wearing a while silk top with only one sleeve with a white peasant style skirt with lots of ruffles, and to be honest, she looked awful in it. "I look ridiculous!"

            Helga smiled slightly. "Yeah, you do." Callie folded her arms across her chest. "But you still look better than me," Helga added quickly. "Really, look at my arms. I have guy arms."

            "You do not have guy arms. I would love to have your arms, but I am too lazy to ever go and work out."

            "What are you talking about? I look like a guy anyways, and this dress just accentuates every nonfeminine part of my body! I even have man boobs!"

            Callie raised an eyebrow. She had no idea that Helga cared so much about how she looked and that she was this overdramatic. "I am only going to say this once, and I say that in a nonlesbian lover type way." The two exchanged glances. "Not that there's anything wrong with that," the girls said in unison.

            "I'm glad to hear that," Helga said.

            "Anyways, you look fine. Actually, you look amazing. Every guy that sees you like this will be drooling, even more than normal. And you don't have man boobs. You're pretty muscular, but you don't look like those disgusting female body builders on ESPN. Now they have man boobs."

            Helga grinned and spun around in front of the mirror. "Maybe I do look okay."

             A young woman walked over to them, and she was the coolest looking girl Helga had ever seen. She was small, about 5'2'', and Helga bet she was barely over hundred pounds, if even that. Her hair was platinum with hot pink and bright green highlights, and she wore it half up, half down, the ponytail directly on top of her head. Dark lashes framed her amethyst eyes, and her eye shadow was bright silver. She wore a black t-shirt that said Riot Girl in hot pink, and she wore dark green cargo pants. "Are you girls about ready? The others are beginning to get restless."

            "They're harmless," Callie said.

            "I was talking about the other designers, not the contestants." She looked the girls up and down. "That's not mine," she said, laughing slightly at Callie's outfit, causing the young girl to scowl. She turned to Helga. "That, however, is mine. And you look great in it. I made it really for someone your size, but the amazing thing is that it will look great on just about anybody."

            Helga looked at her. "You designed this dress?"

            "Yep."

            "You're Reilly Dresden?" Callie asked.

            "In the flesh."

            "Oh my god! I love your work!" she squealed and then clamped her hands over her mouth. "I am so sorry. You must get that all the time," she said sheepishly.

            Reilly smiled. "It's okay. I'm used to it."

            Helga looked at her. "If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

            "Wow, you like to ask those normally barred questions. But I'm twenty-seven."

            Helga smiled. "Geez. Twenty-seven and one of North America's biggest designers. That is amazing, and exhausting."

            Reilly grinned. "Yeah, but I am having a hell of a time." She eyed Helga. "I know you. I've seen you before."

            Callie gave Helga a strange look, but Helga had a feeling she knew from where. "Did you go to a Johnny Stitches show a couple of years ago?"

            "I have only been to one of that hack's shows, when I was getting my degree." She smiled from ear to ear as she snapped her fingers. "The It Girl. I never thought I would have a chance to met you." She extended her hand.

            Callie was confused, and it showed on her face. Helga shook Reilly's hand. "I was a model when I was nine."

            Callie's eyes widened. "Get out!" she cried, pushing Helga.

            "No, she's not. I was actually at the show when you ruined his line. Took him years to recover from that," Reilly said, smirking. "I still can't believe you were replaced by the Hat Girl. That was a shit design if I ever saw one. I mean, honestly, who wants to walk around looking like the Mad Hatter?"

            "So what happened to Johnny?"

            Reilly looked at her peculiarly. "He's a judge for the pageant."

            Helga's mouth fell open. "Well, it should be interesting when he sees me again."

            "I'll say. He'll probably want to sign you again. I have to say, you look much better with two eyebrows."

            Helga blushed. "Thanks."

            "Well, anyways, I'll talk to you guys later." She started to turn away, but she faced the girls. "Come to my studio this weekend to pick out dresses for the pageant. Not to be egotistical or anything, but it would be in your best interest." She looked at Callie again, and snickered. "Trust me." She waved and went in the direction of the stage.

            Callie turned to Helga. "I remember now! I even had one of those dresses."

            Helga groaned. "That was a long time ago. Can we just go on stage and get this over with?"

            "After you, It Girl."

            Helga groaned. So it's true what they say. Your past does come back to haunt you. 

            She stepped on stage and was surprised at how much Arnold and his team had gotten done. The steps were fully assembled, and they were working on installing the lights on the front of the stairs. Helga had to admit that it looked awesome. She was still staring at the set when she heard several gasps behind her.

            "Ohmigod, that is the perfect dress!"

            "I love it!"

            "We have to have that one!"

            "Can we get it in different colors?"

            "She looks amazing in that! I want to look like that!"

            Helga turned around and saw most of the other contestants rushing towards her and Callie. She turned to her friend. "They actually like your outfit?"

            Callie simply stared at Helga.

            "What?"

            "You have got to be the most dense person in the world." Callie rolled her eyes. "They are talking about you."

            Helga's eyes bulged out of her head as the girls circled around her. She noticed that some of the female set designers had also come over.

            "Helga, that dress is gorgeous!" Sarah Andrews said.

            "We have to have that one," Christina Hampton added.

            Sabrina Verducci spoke up. "But we can't all have the same. We need different colors."

            Gabriella Caulfield turned to Valencia Martinez. "You would look good in coral."

            "And you would look great in a dark red."

            "Helga should stay in that color," Zoe O'Shaughnessey said. "It looks great on her."

            Callie noted Lila's displeased facial expression. Actually, Lila looked like she wanted to rip Helga to shreds, dress and all. "I completely agree."

            Lila's lip curled in disgust. Hailey Holden was standing beside her with the same look on her face. Great, Helga thought, another carbon copy of Lila. "I think that we should go with something more elegant for the opening."

            The girls turned their attention to Lila, who was wearing a tight dark blue dress that reached the floor. "Lila, we wouldn't be able to move in that dress, let alone dance," Annabella Chen said, reminding the girls that they had to dance in the dresses that they picked in the opening.

            "Like Helga's dress is sweats and a sweatshirt," she snapped.

            "But it's not skin tight," Katrina Hudson shot back. Helga had seen enough of Katrina to see that she deeply disliked Lila. "It's shorter, so we will be able to move easier, and we won't have to worry about tripping over the hem of our dress." The other girls agreed amongst themselves.

            Arnold looked up from the music stand he was painting and saw a group of girls circled around Helga, and for once she has not fighting with Lila. A tiny blonde was glaring at Lila with a look of hatred that Lila got from many people. "What are they doing?" he asked Josh.

            "According to Taryn, they are picking out dresses." Arnold looked over to his left and saw that Taryn, Kathryn, Mara, and Adam D. were watching with interest. He would have asked them to get back to work, but he was too tired to deal with their protests. He watched with interest as the girl looked like she was going to take Lila down when Mrs. Chadwick walked towards them followed by two women and a man, not one of them looking like a normal human being. He guessed they were the designers.

            "So, girls, have you decided what you wanted to wear?" Mrs. Chadwick said in an overly cheery tone.

            "Definitely Helga's." Isabella Rivas said. The other girls excitedly agreed. Well, most of them. Lila still looked extremely pissed.

            "But we were wondering if we could have it in different colors," Rei Ono added.

            Mrs. Chadwick turned to Reilly. "I believe that is your design, Miss Dresden."

            Reilly smiled. "It's my favorite design, and I could easily make different colors for every girl."

            Mrs. Chadwick clapped her heads. "Well, that's that. Girls please come over here and tell Miss Dresden what color you would like. Helga, would you like to keep the color you have?"

            Reilly spoke up. "Actually, Helga can take that dress with her. It looks perfect, and I don't think I even need to make any adjustments." Helga beamed while Lila's eyes narrowed to tiny slits.

            Helga walked to the dressing room to change into practice clothes. Callie followed her after she told Reilly what color she wanted (Reilly was coming on Saturday to measure the girls). "Well, aren't you the life of the party?"

            "That? The girls just liked the dress."

            "Not all of them," Callie said as she pulled a sweatshirt over her head.

            "Oh, Lila? She hates me, remember? That's nothing new."

            Callie did not look convinced. "Helga, I'd watch out for her. Lila doesn't seem like the type of girl who lets other people have her spotlight."

            Helga shrugged. "Well, she's going to have to get used to it. A lot of these girls could easily be in the top five instead of her."

            "Helga, I'm serious. I have a bad feeling about this."

            "So do I, but I think it might just be the cole slaw I had for lunch. I keep telling myself that I shouldn't trust it, but I ate it anyways."

            "Helga, just think about it, okay?"

            "I will. I will. I'll be careful around the Wicked Witch of the West." She finished tying her shoe. "Let's go." Helga tried to shrug it off, but she could not shake the feeling that Callie was right about Lila.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            Arnold yawned, stretched his arms, and then fell backwards onto one of the Persian rugs of the Omni Theater's lobby. Josh was lying on his back on the settee in front of Arnold throwing a read bouncy ball up in the air. Helga was running late, and Josh was waiting with Arnold. The boys were exhausted. Yesterday they had to work their butts off to finish the steps for the set and today they began to set up the lights on the stairs and paint. Arnold closed his eyes to try to lessen the headache that had formed between them, but _Pagliacci _was playing over the intercom system. "Quando questa commedia finirà?" he said aloud.

            "What did you say?" Josh asked, momentarily stopping.

            "Nothing," Arnold said. Where is Helga? I want to go home. He supposed Josh could just take him home, but Helga would never see the logic in that and would be offended. Arnold's head suddenly snapped up when Josh began humming, "Hail to the Chief." The boy scared him sometimes. Just then Josh threw the ball too high. It hit the ceiling and began to bounce around the room like the ball in Pong. The two boys jumped up and tried vigorously to get it before broke anything. Josh ran after it but because he was watching the ball, tripped over a chair and landed hard on his shoulder. Arnold dove for it and ended up getting massive floor burns on his knees. Josh an Arnold watched in horror as the ball zoomed toards a very expensive-looking vase at the reception desk (which was luckily empty, though Arnold was sure that some security camera was watching them somewhere) when a small brunette caught the ball before it struck the lamp. "I never play sports and yet I caught the ball and you two are on the floor. Man, you boys are pathetic." Callie smiled at the two of them as she lightly tossed the ball.

            Arnold got up while Josh remained awestruck on the floor. "Where's Helga?"

            She scoffed. "You're welcome," she snapped. Her grinned reappeared. "Why do you ask?"

            "Because she is supposed to take me home."

            Callie closed her eyes and nodded She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I understand. You're missing your backseat lovin'!"

            Josh began laughing on the floor behind them as Arnold turned bright red. "No! I just need to go home."

            "Oh, so then you can go to sleep."

            Arnold stared at her. "Uh, sure," he said slowly.

            "Then you can dream about some back seat lovin' from Helga."

            At this Josh began rolling on the floor and Arnold's face became redder. Callie's facial expression suddenly changed and she brought her hands to her mouth, looking truly sorry for what she had just said. "Arnold, I'm so sorry." Maybe she's not that bad. Callie continued. "I mean, you probably wouldn't know what to do with a girl in that situation."

            Josh was now howling and banging his fist on the floor. Arnold's eyes bugged out and his face darkened, if that was possible. Callie hugged him. "It's okay, Arnold. Josh and I will help you through this."

            Arnold was numb. He couldn't move, couldn't think, and Callie's embrace prevented him from breathing properly. She pulled away and laughed at him. "My, God, Arnold. I'm only joking," she said and punched him in the arm with more force then he thought she could muster.

            "Callie, give the boy a break."

            The three looked at Helga, who was laughing softly. "You liked that?" Callie asked.

            "Yeah, but it's not true."

            "What?" she asked, looking back and forth between Helga and Arnold and wondering if the two had ever done anything with each other.

            "Have you looked at me? Arnold has enough sense to realize that I am so far out of his league that he can't even fantasize about me. It causes too much trauma."

            Arnold's jaw dropped. Callie and Josh laughed as Helga smiled sweetly at him. Arnold tried weakly to redeem himself. "Keep telling yourself that," he said, but she was the only one who heard him. Josh was again rolling on the floor and Callie was hunched over holding her gut. "It's not that funny, is it?" Arnold asked.

            "I didn't think so."

            "What took you so long?"

            "I was fighting with Samson. He wanted me to stay after to work on my talent act."

            "So since you are here I'm assuming you won?"

            "You should never assume."

            Arnold's face fell. He could not believe he had to stay longer. "Can I go with Josh?"

            "I was hoping that you would want to help me decide what to do."

            He sighed. "I guess if you want me to."

            "Great." She looked at the others. "Are you finished yet?"

            Callie stopped and cleared her throat. "I think so."

            "Good," Helga said as she walked back towards one of the studios. Two men were waiting there, and he guess that the one that looked extremely pissed off was Samson. Arnold smiled slightly. It tends to happen when you have to work with Helga. He recognized the other man as Julio Lopez, who was in charge of the music department at the Omni. He was sitting in front of a computer. Helga snapped, "I'm ready."

            "Well, what do you want to do?" Samson asked in an equally distasteful tone.

            "Well, I can play 'Yankee Doodle Dandy' on a pennywhistle while balancing a book on my head and peeling a banana with my toes."

            Samson was not amused. "Can you do anything else?"

            She shrugged, obviously not interested in tried to help herself win the pageant. Arnold knew that Helga would be happy playing 'Yankee Doodle Dandy' on a pennywhistle while balancing a book on her head peeling a banana with her toes. At least it would prove that she was good at multitasking. "I can juggle basketballs."

            "No," Samson said shortly. "Miss Pataki, the judges want to see something elegant and refined, not some hillbilly who can peel produce with her feet."

            "So strip tease is out?"

            He glared at her. "How about we stick to what you are marginally good at, singing."

            Helga thought about it for a moment. "Why not? I don't have any other ideas."

            Samson rolled his eyes. "At least we are getting somewhere. This is Julio Lopez, and he has brought his computer, which has just about every song imaginable in its system. Pick one and sing it."

            Arnold, Josh, Callie, and Samson sat down in folding chairs while Helga typed in a song that she wanted to sing. "Hmmm, this one." She pointed at the screen. Julio smiled and set it up so that only the music would play, not the lyrics. Helga curtseyed in mocking fashion, and waited for the song to start. After a short guitar and drum into, she began to sing.

"Pictures on the wall, just waiting there to fall, still remind mind me,

that painful holiday, can almost hear you say, 'Please don't miss me too long.'

What did I do wrong? Could have sung a different song. You were my tune.

Make my heart believe a want is not a need, and I'm all right without you.

The days go by, the nights don't change, the stars still spell out your name.

I will wait for you.

The world has let me down. Is it you're just not around? I've lost my reason.

All the memories and every smile you gave to me you can keep them.

The days go by, the nights don't change, the stars still spell out your name. I will wait for you.

I will wait for you. I will wait for you. I will wait for you. I will wait for you. I will wait for

The days go by and still

I will wait for you."

            "That's good," Samson started after she finished. Arnold thought she did very well, and she would actually like to sing it because it was one of her favorite songs. "But I think you should try something a bit more well know. Something classic."

            "Classic," she said as she skimmed the list again. "That one." She stepped away from the computer and started to sing.

"At first I was afraid, I was petrified, kept thinking I could never live without you by my side. 

But then I spent so many nights, thinking how you did my wrong, and I grew strong, and I learned how to get along.

And so you're back from outer space. 

I just walked in to fine you here with that sad look upon your face.

I should have changed that stupid lock. I should have made you leave your key.

If I had known for just one second you'd be back to bother me.

Oh go on, now go, walk out the door.

Just turn around now 'cause you're not welcome anymore.

Weren't you the one who tried to break me with goodbyes?

You think I'd crumble? You think I'd lay down and die?

Oh no not I. I will survive.

Oh as long as I know how to love I know I'll stay alive.

I've got all my life to live and I've got all my love to give.

And I'll survive. I will survive. Hey hey."

            She began to dance around during the break, and Samson shouted, "No, no, no! Not that one!"

            "You wanted a well known classic!"

            He growled. "Fine, pick whatever you want."

            She smiled.

"Wise men say only fools rush in, 

but I can't help falling in love with you."

She bobbed up and down to the reggae music before beginning again. Arnold, Callie, and Josh pretended to wave lighters in the air.  
  


"Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can't help falling in love with you.

Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? I can't help falling in love with you.

As a river flows, gently to the sea, darling, so we go, some things were meant to be.

Take my hand. Take my whole life too.

Cause I can't help falling in love with you.

As a river flows, gently to the sea, darling so it goes, some things ere meant to be.

Take my hand. Take my whole life too.

Cause I can't help falling in love with you.

Cause I can't help falling in love with you.

Cause I can't help falling in love with you.

Cause I can't help falling in love with you."  
  


            "Well, that's a bit better, but I want you to try and sing something that you can connect with. Something that has special meaning to you."

            "Special meaning," Helga said slowly. "I know just the one."

"Right now, I really don't care if I'm alone, or it I got you sittin' here.

Oh no, look I've done it again. Man I should think about it before I say anything.

1, 2, 3, 4, looks like I'm alone again and

I feel fine.

Doesn't really matter now cause I'm all right.

He knocked me on my ass again, but I don't mind.

Looks like I'm along again. and I feel fine.

Right now, I don't know what to say because you're mean, and I never liked you anyway.

Don't ever call because I don't want to be friends.

Excuse me now because the chorus is comin' up again.

1, 2, 3, 4, looks like I'm alone again and

I feel fine. 

Doesn't really matter now cause I'm all right.

He knocked me on my ass again, but I don't mind.

Looks like I'm alone again, and I feel fine.

They come and go, and I don't feel a thing.

It's not cause I'm a jerk, and I don't care,

And I don't know what's the matter with me.

I only know the right guy's still out there, right guy's still out there.

And I feel fine.  
 Doesn't really matter now cause I'm all right.

He knocked me on my ass again, but I don't mind. 

Looks like I'm alone again, and I feel fine.

I feel fine. Doesn't really matter now cause I'm all right.

He knocked me on my ass again, but I don't mind.

Looks like I'm alone again, and I feel fine."  
  


            "That was interesting, but try to be a bit more happy."

            She shrugged. "You want it, you got it." She curtseyed again. "This song I truly from my heart."

"I met him Sunday, that was yesterday, the boy I knew from 1990.

His eyes aren't hazel. His name is Arnold. 

I kissed him once, and now I'm able to run a four-minute mile, crack a smile.

He makes me want to kiss all the 

Babies, hug the puppy dogs. He makes me feel like my mom

Smell the flowers and plant a tree. I gotta say that Arnold—he's the bomb.

Now it's Monday, better than Sunday. Arnold told me that he would stay.

His football head is in my mind. Boy that Arnold sure is fine.

I'm with him now, until I die. He makes me want to kiss all the

Babies, hug the puppy dogs.

He makes me feel like my mom.

Smell the flowers and plant a tree. I gotta say that Arnold—he's the bomb.

Then on Tuesday, I left Arnold. Now I'm goin' out with Charlie.

I saw his package and what do you know, I said: "That looks like a tube of cookie dough!"

Arnold's I said looks like a small pencil with broken lead.

Rabies got the puppy dogs and now he wants to buy the farm.

He bought me flowers, so woe is he.

It sucks that Arnold still thinks I'm the bomb.

Rabies got the puppy dogs and now he wants to buy the farm.

He bought me flowers, so woe is he.

It suck that Arnold still thinks I'm the bomb."  
  

            The three other teenager's faces were red, and Callie and Josh were crying from laughing so hard. Arnold could not believe she had just sung that. She was smiling sweetly, and even Samson was laughing. "That was, well, I don't think that will work," he choked out. Arnold did not say anything; he just glared at her and wondered how many more times he was going to be embarrassed today. _And I thought yesterday was bad_, he thought sourly.

            "All right. How about this one? It might be appropriate for these times." Helga was looking at the computer screen and avoiding Arnold's eyes.

            "Go on ahead," he said, still laughing.

"You and I in a little toy shop buy a bag of balloons with the money we've got.

Set them free at the break of dawn, 'til one by one, they were gone.

Back at the base, bugs in the software flash the message, 'Something's out there.'

Floating in the summer sky, 99 red balloons go by.

99 red balloons floating in the summer sky.

Panic bells, it's red alert.

There's something here from somewhere else.

The war machine springs to life, opens up one eager eye.

Focusing it on the sky, as 99 red balloons go by.

99 Decision Street, 99 ministers meet

to worry, worry, super scurry,

call out the troops not in a hurry.

This is what we've waited for. This is it boys, this it war.

The president is on the line

As 99 red balloons go by.

99 Kriegminister

Streichholz und Benzinkanister

Hielten sich fuer schlaue Leute

Witterten schon gette Beute

Riefen: Krieg und wollten Macht

Mann, wer haette das gedacht

Dass es einmal soweit kommt

Wegen 99 Leftballons.

99 dreams I have had, in every one, a red balloon.

It's all over and I'm standin' pretty in the dust that was a city.

If I could find a souvenir just to prove the world was here. . .

And here it is, a red balloon.

I think of you and let it go."   
  


            Callie and Josh stood up and applauded. Arnold sulked in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. Samson shook his head. "Miss Pataki, please stop wasting our time!"

            "They're enjoying it." She pointed at the three. "Well, most of them," she corrected as her gaze fell on the blonde boy.

            "Please, try something worth our time, Miss Pataki."

            "Okay."

"You're here, there's nothing I fear, and I know that my heart will, go on."

            "No!" the five shouted. Helga laughed. "That's what I thought."

            Samson shook his head. "That's enough for today. I don't think I could stand to listen to you sing anymore."

            Helga shrugged. "Fine. I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."

            He nodded and left. Helga turned to the three, and Callie and Josh began bowing down to her. "Oh, hail great Helga and her amazing voice."

            "Would you please stop?" she hissed.

            They got up. "Sure. I have to be going anyways," Callie said.

            "Me too." Josh grabbed his stuff. "See ya, Arnold."

            "Bye."

            "Bye, Helga," Callie called as she left. "Don't break any windows with those pipes."

            "Bye." Helga smiled but it quickly faded when she looked at Arnold. He was glaring at her. "What? C'mon, it was funny."

            "Maybe for you."

            "Arnold, I was joking. Hell, how would I know how small it is?"

            "HELGA!"

            "Would you relax?" she asked as they headed for the exit. "I was just joshing you. Joking. Teasing." He did not say anything. She rolled her eyes and lost most of her temper. "My God, Arnold, you aren't that friggin' sensitive!"

            "Well, I was embarrassed enough earlier!" He shoved the door open and deliberately tried to make it hit Helga in the face. 

            She caught it and heaved it open. "Will you get over it? It's just a joke!" She growled in frustration. "God, boys are such babies!"

            He slammed the car door as he sat down. "I thought the line was, 'Men are such babies.'"

            Helga revved the car and pulled out of the parking space. "It is, but that doesn't work for you, now does it?" she snapped. Arnold leaned against the window as the two rode in silence. After a few minutes, Helga switched to her Bowling for Soup CD and started to sing. "Eight o'clock, Monday night and I'm waiting—"

            "Haven't you sung enough for one day?" he said through gritted teeth.

            "No," she said as she changed the song. Helga smiled as "Life after Lisa" started playing. "He's waking up and baking, watching the parade because today's the day he got over you. Taking out the trash and the pictures that he stashed of the two of you in 2002." He eyed her carefully as she again made her own lyrics up to a song. "You stole his heart when there was a sewer king. He was with you when the timer for your pregnancy test went ding. You left him for a quarterback because Arnold wasn't on varsity, but that's okay. Cause now there's no more washing your car after it rains. No more washing the your puke on his shirt stain. No more, life will never be the same. Life after Lila's not so bad at all."

            Arnold couldn't help but laugh, so she continued. "He saw you with the dude who served you the movie food, did you fuck him? Damn, that was fast. Can you believe that he's alive, got hott girls on his sides, and on varsity he's kicking some ass. So when you asked him if he hated you now. It's not you it's just all of the times he missed out on sleeping with your best friend every time you past out, but that's okay. Cause now there's no more washing your car after it rains. No more washing the your puke on his shirt stain. No more, life will never be the same. Life after Lila's not so bad at all. I bet you're saying to yourself that you'll find somebody else like him. All he's got to say is there ain't no fucking way you're getting him to say he's sorry, not today. Cause now there's no more washing your car after it rains. No more washing the your puke on his shirt stain. No more, life will never be the same. Cleaning up the house again, listening to Britney's pain, having headaches in his brain, listening to you complain, shopping at the mall again, I'm outta rhymes, and he's got to say life after Lila's not so bad at all!"

            Arnold was laughing hysterically. "That's great, Helga."

            "Thank you very much."

            "But where are these hott girls supposedly at my sides?"

            She glanced at him. "Hello? What do I look like, chopped liver?"

            He grinned broadly. "And I would never sleep with Lila's friends."

            "Really? Why not?"

            "I hate to think of what diseases I would get from them. They're even worse then Lila!" He smirked. "I'd just make out with them."

            Helga shook her head as she pulled in front of Arnold's house. "Are you sure you are okay?"

            "Yeah, I'm fine."

            "Good. I'll see you later."

            "Do you wanna work on the project at my house tomorrow after everything?"

            "Sure. Sounds like a plan. We really need to be working on that."

            "Yep. So you are in?"

            "Yeah."

            "Cool. Good night, Helga."

            "Night."

            Helga ran inside her house when she got home and up to her room. She decided to forget about homework for a bit and checked her email. "Oops," she said when she realized that she had left the Internet on all day. She had left in on the entire night before because she was downloading music, and she forgot to disconnect it in the morning. Big Bob would have a fit when he came home because he would have missed some stupid message. Helga listened for any noise downstairs, but she heard nothing. They must still be having dinner or drinks. Or a smoke. She sighed. Helga's mom had been sober for three years now, and that was part of the reason she went back to work with Bob, so she would get out of the house and away from the booze. However, running a beeper empire was very stressful, and because she could not drink anymore, and Bob the insensitive jerk believed that it was important to go for drinks with your partners and clients, she took up smoking (Miriam's doctor was the one who advised her to go back to work, and it caused her to take up another very unhealthy habit. He was now trying to help Miriam quit smoking, but it was not going very well). She shrugged and looked at her screen. Phoebe had left her an MSN message, but she was now offline. Another was from a friend in Seattle, but she was also offline. When she clicked the window closed she saw the one underneath from someone with the screen name, "Searching for my blonde bombshell." She looked at the address. It was Jake's. She read his messages.

Hey cutie.

Helga?

Are you there?

Hello?

Are you made at me? (Helga guessed that meant mad).

well, i guess you aren't there, so ill talk to you lata

            She closed the window, very disappointed. He still had not told her when they were going to the movies. She checked her e-mail inbox. Junk. Junk. College letter. Junk. Crappy forward. Another crappy forward. Junk. Junk. She scrolled down and until she found something that caught her eye. She bit her lip nervously she clicked on the link.

            To: patakih_10@hotmail.com

            From: jakerich22@hotmail.com

            Hey. I tried to get a hold of you, but I guess you weren't around to get my MSN messages. That's cool, I know that you're completely busy lately. Anyways, I was wondering if you wanted to be a rebel and go to the movie tomorrow night after your pageant practice. We can go see whatever you want. Call me if you are still interested. Lata, Jake.

            Helga felt like doing cartwheels all over her room. "Jake wants to go out on a date with me! JAKE RICHARDSON WANTS TO GO OUT ON A DATE WITH ME!" She jumped around the room before she shakily picked up the phone and dialed his number.

            He picked up on the first ring. "Hello?"

            "Is Jake there?"

            "That's me. Wait, Helga?"

            "Yeah."

            "Man, I'm glad you called. You were starting to scare me."

            She laughed. "Sorry about that."

            "So, what do you say? Dinner and a movie?"

            "Sounds great."

            "Great. Well, I'll have to talk to you about it tomorrow because I have to finish studying for my government test. I'll be seeing your lovely face tomorrow."

            Helga blushed. "Sounds great."

            "Bye, Helga."

            "Bye." She hung up and fell back on her bed. "I'M GOING TO GO ON A DATE WITH JAKE RICHARDSON!" Helga sighed blissfully. "Well, this will make a good entry," she said as she pulled a little pink book out from under her mattress. Her cat pounced on her bed. Helga picked him up and said, "I'm going on a date with Jake Richardson!" The cat blinked and then yawned. "Well, thank you for your support," she said as she put the cat on the other side of her bed. She closed the notebook after writing a few notes. "Today was a good day," she said aloud. "And I have a feeling things are only going to get better."

A/N: Well, that was an interesting chapter. Two updates in one calendar week. That's very good for me, especially since I have been so weighed down with homework, so don't expect this to become a trend. It might be a while before I update again, though I am hoping it will be soon. Last night while I was watching Inuyasha an idea for a new Hey Arnold! story popped into my head, and I actually outlined the first four chapters (I can't help it. I like to be organized so I can remember things). Anyways, it won't be coming for a **long** time, because this fic is going to take forever, and I have a Yu-Gi-Oh story that I started to write, and I want to finish (I actually was going to have that story be my first, but I completely screwed it up about six chapters in. I need to rewrite it. This fic is much better, and I am actually very glad I started with this one because I really like writing it). I also plan to do a Card Captor Sakura story, so I'm just telling you that if you like this story, eventually I will write more. Anyways, next chapter might be "Starstruck", but I am not sure at the moment. . .Later days.


	9. Starstruck

A/N: This is a short chapter, a least shorter then they have been, because the last one was long and the next one might be long. Chapter 11 is probably going to be the longest so far, but we shall see, shan't we?

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold! but I do own a very fat cat. I love my kitty ^_^

Where to Begin

Chapter 9 – Starstruck

            "I've been waiting a long time, for this moment to come. I'm destined for anything at all. Downtown, lights will be shining on me, like a new diamond ring out under the midnight hour. Oh, no one can touch me now, and I can't turn my back. It's too late, ready or not at all. Well, I'm so much closer than I have ever known. Wake up."

            Arnold eyed Helga carefully, wandering how she could have so much energy. She was bobbing all over while she drove, singing at the top her lungs. She was happier then he had seen her in a long time, at least when she was not torturing him. He grimaced slightly at the memory of the night before. He stared at her uncomprehendingly.  She had had school, basketball practice, and pageant practice, and she was acting as if she had just woken up from a four-hour nap. He glared at her out of envy.

            "Well, it's been, Arnold," she said cheerfully as she pulled in front of the boarding house. That was something Helga tended to say from time to time. She would say "It's been," but she would not finish the statement by saying exactly what it had been. He did not move; he just stared at her inquisitively.

            "What? Do I have something in my teeth?" she asked as she looked at her teeth in the rearview mirror.

            "Aren't you going to turn the car off?"

            "Why would I turn off the car if I am just going to have to turn it on again to leave?" she asked, throwing her hands in the air in mock fashion.

            "Aren't you coming in?"

            "What for?"

            "We were going to work on the project, remember?"

            Helga's brown eyes widened. "Oh, crap." She looked at him, guilt all over her face.

            "Helga, it's okay if you forgot." Arnold stepped out of the car. "You can just call your parents inside."

            She looked away from him and turned the car off. "It's not that, Arnold."

            "What is it, then?"

            "I, uh." She finally looked back at him. "I kinda made other plans," she said slowly.

            What else could she be doing on a Wednesday? "What kind of plans?"

            Helga discovered that her hands were very fascinating. "I'm going to the movies with Jake."

            "What? It's like nine o'clock."

            "I know. That's why I need to get home and shower and get ready. He's picking me up to go to the late movie at 9:30."

            "They have a late movie on Wednesdays?"

            "I guess."

            Realization finally smacked Arnold in his football shaped head. "You're telling me you are blowing me off for Jake?"

            She raised her eyes to him. "It's not really like that, Arnold."

            "Then what is it like, Helga?" he snapped.

            "Arnold, I forgot. It was an honest mistake," she said quietly. Arnold could tell she was truly sorry, but that did not change how he felt. "Sure, Helga. I bet you just 'forgot' that you were coming over here."

            "Yes, that's it. It's not like we have been planning this for months, Arnold. You just told me yesterday."

            Arnold rolled his eyes angrily. "I'm sorry. I forgot that when Jake Richardson comes riding by on his white horse and sweeps you away, he leaves every one else in the dust and in the back of your mind."

            Helga put her face in her hands. "I can't believe you are blowing this way out of proportion. You're the calm and rational one!"

            "I am thinking rationally, Helga! When else are we supposed to work on this?"

            "We have tomorrow in class and the weekend."

            "I have a game Saturday and Rhonda's taking you to the salon and to pick out your dresses Saturday, remember? Or did you forget all about that as well?"

            Helga had forgotten that Rhonda had made plans with her for Saturday. "You know, I'm sorry I can't be like you, Arnold, and never make mistakes. I am truly, honestly sorry I can't be more like a holier-than-thou football head," she hissed.

            "I never said that."

            "You are implying it! Is there anything else you would like to add about me? Am I in any other way completely inferior to you, oh great Short Man?"

            "I'm taller than you!"

            She threw her hands in the air. "There's another one. C'mon, Arnoldo, keep the streak going!"

            "Stop it, will you?" Arnold could not stand she was putting such horrible things in his mouth.

            She looked away from him. "I just really like, him, Arnold." His eyes narrowed slightly. "But you are right, I should not have done this."

            Arnold's expression softened slightly, but his heart felt crushed, and he had a bad feeling that it was not just because Helga forgot their plans. He grabbed his stuff. "You know what, don't worry about me or what I think. Just go to your movie with your precious Jake."

            Her head snapped back towards him. "Arnold?"

            He stared deep into her eyes, his own completely empty of emotions. "I'll be just fine without you, Helga." He shut the door and went inside.

            "Arnold?" she asked to no one. She banged her head on the steering wheel. "How could I have been so stupid?"

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            Helga rested her head against the window of Jake's black Mitsubishi Spyder and reflected upon the past couple of moments, which had all happened in a blur. She had been running late when Jake came to pick her up, but that was the normal thing for girls to do. Somehow she had managed to get ready in her dazed state. Jake had talked to her parents while she was getting ready, and amazingly Bob only referred to her as Olga once, and both her parents seemed to like Jake, who was currently talking about something, but Helga was not paying any attention. "Don't you agree, Helga?" he asked.

            "What? Oh, whole-heartedly," she replied to the unknown question. 

            "I knew you would." Helga smiled slightly, but she had an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

            Jake watched her for a moment, then asked, "Helga, are you okay?"

            "Huh? Oh, I'm fine."

            "Are you sure? Because we can do this another time if you aren't up to it."

            Helga stared at him, his eyes full of kindness and sympathy. _Helga, what are you doing?_ she thought. _You are on a date with an amazing guy, who for some odd reason likes you a lot. Forget about everything and just concentrate on him and on having a good time._ She smiled. "No, I'm fine."

            He returned the smile. "Good, because I hate to see you unhappy, and I would hate it even more if I would not be able to go out with you tonight."

            Helga could not believe her ears. That's so sweet. "So would I."

            His smiled widened. "Well, here we are. One movie, two medium sodas, and one large popcorn."

            She climbed out of the car. "Raisenettes?"

            "Of course." He took her hand. "Shall we?"

            She giggled. "Let's." Jake bought the tickets for _Just Married_ and the food, and they sat down in the middle of the crowded theater. After a few minutes, they both agreed that the movie was stupid, and decided to annoy the people around them by talking through the whole movie, a la _Mystery Science Theater 3000_. The two were laughing hysterically when they left the theater. "That guy behind us looked like he was about to beat the crap out of you," Helga said between laughs.

            "I could have taken him." Jake held the car door open for Helga.

            "Oh, is that why you ran out of the theater, dragging me with you?"

            "I was trying to get you to safety in case he tried to attack you."

            "Ah, I see." She smiled broadly. "I'm glad my hero wants to protect me, especially if he can save his own ass in the process."

            He smiled but eyed her. "I didn't think girls cussed around guys."

            "Then you need to be around girls more often."

            Jake pulled the car into Ramon's Ice Cream Parlor. "No, I think I just need to be around you more often."

            Helga blushed furiously as they walked into the restaurant and was sure her face was still red when they sat down. Helga's hands shook slightly as she ate, something that happened when she was nervous or had a lot of adrenaline. Jake noticed. "Helga, you're shaking."

            She tried to shrug it off. "Oh, yeah, that happens sometimes."

            "Are you sure that you are okay?"

            "Well, I was just nervous about things going well," she said shyly.

            He grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Me too."

            She smiled. "Well, what do you think?"

            "I think it's going so well that we might have to try it again just to make sure this isn't a fluke."

            "Sound's good." She looked at his hand. "Whoa, where'd you get the bling-bling?" On his ring finger was the largest ring Helga had ever seen that was not fake.

            He fallowed her gaze. "Oh, that was my dad's. He won the state football championship for West Hillwood back in '78."

            "That's great that he gave it to you," she said, thinking of her own father.

            "Yeah, I guess. It's the only thing that I have of him. He left my mom and me when I was six. He left it attached to a note that said he would always love me, but he just could not handle a family. Too bad I haven't heard from him in seven years."

            Helga dropped her gaze. Big Bob may be a rotten father, but at least he was there. "I'm sorry."

            "It's okay. It's not like I am the only one it's ever happened to."

            "Yeah."

            "You ready to go?"

            "Yeah. It's getting kind of late."

            On the way home they talked mostly about her. Jake wanted to know all about the pageant and about the basketball team. Helga thought that the ride was too short. If she could, she would have had it last forever. Jake walked her to her door. "I hope you had a good time."

            "I did."

            He smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow." He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips. "Good night, Helga." She went inside, feeling amazingly and blissfully happy. She went upstairs in a daze and went directly to bed. She dreamed about her amazing night with Jake Richardson and held on to the idea that this was only the beginning.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            Helga arrived to her U.S. history class just before the bell because she had taken her time getting ready that morning. She suddenly had a feeling that the world was going to wait for her. She sat in her seat as Mr. Phegley took roll call. Arnold was working on his Pre-Calculus homework. After the attendance was taken, the class went down to the library. Helga put her books down on the table where Arnold was sitting and sat down across from him. "So, what should we work on today?"

            He did not look up from the book he was reading. "Why are you asking for my opinion? You'll just do what ever you like in the end."

            "You're still mad," she said softly.

            "Yes, I'm still mad," he snapped. "Is there any other completely obvious observations you would like to point out. I know, your favorite. I have a football-shaped head."

            Her blood began to boil. "Damnit, Arnold, can't you get over it already?"

            "You don't get it, do you?"

            "Get what? So I messed up, Arnold. I forgot that we were supposed to study together. Big deal. Like I haven't done it before."

            "But that was because you honestly forgot, not because you chose to go out on a date with the world's biggest idiot with great hair."

            She folded her arms over her chest. "Is that was this is about? Are you jealous of Jake?"

            He stood up. "No. It's just that I thought that you would be the last person to pick a guy over your best friend, that's all. But why are you upset? You got what you wanted, and by your mood this morning, you must have had a good time."

            "I did," she said softly.

            He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "I'm glad. Now all you need is to find someone who cares." He walked to another table across the library. Helga could not believe what had just happened. She knew he would be mad, she was not that clueless, but she would never had guessed that he would have acted so hateful towards her. It was so unlike him, and she was the reason why he was acting this way.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            Arnold was watching the lights on the stage and was deciding what would look best for the pageant. He scribbled a few notes down when Josh walked over to him. "The lights on the steps are working great."

            "Good," Arnold said.

            "Hey, I didn't see Helga's car in the parking lot today."

            Arnold wrote down a few more observations. "She had a game tonight."

            "Oh. So who brought you here?"

            "My friend Gerald. Speaking of which, can you take me home?"

            "Sure." Josh paused. "But don't you want to go to Helga's game?"

            "No," Arnold said shortly. "Try a little more blue," he called to Ryne and Reese who were controlling the lights.

            Josh looked very confused. "Why not?"

            "Let's just say I don't really feel like it."

            "Is everything okay between you two?"

            "It's fine," he snapped. Josh took a step back, surprised at his normally good-natured friend's demeanor. Arnold sighed. "We just got into a fight, that's all."

            Josh chuckled lightly. "Trouble in paradise, huh?"

            Arnold's eyes narrowed. "What is it with all the couple references? News flash: Helga and I have never and have no intention of ever dating."

            "Sorry. So, if you don't mind too much, what happened?"

            "She blew me off for another guy, but I think I went overboard, so I am really more angry at myself then her."

            "Why don't you just tell her that?"

            Arnold bit his lip. "It's not that simple."

            "Why not? Just tell her what you just tell me."

            Arnold sighed. "I'll talk to her tomorrow." Hopefully I will be over this by then. He hated fighting with her. Arnold stared up at the lights. And why did it bother him so much?

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            Arnold rubbed his hands together as he stood in the icy February air on his roof. He came up here every time he needed to get away and think. He gazed at the cloudy black sky. "Where is a shooting star when you need one?"

            "Funny. I asked myself the same thing when I was coming over."

            Arnold turned around and looked at Helga. Her hair was wet and she was wearing sweats and a sweatshirt. A blue beanie was atop her blonde hair, and matching gloves and scarf adorned her hands and neck. He smiled when he looked at her feet. She was wearing bright blue flip-flops. She walked over to him and handed him a bag. "I brought you a peace offering."

            He opened it. "Sweet tarts?  Why sweet tarts?" He stared at the box of sour candies, which were in the shape of hearts for Valentine's Day.

            "Because you are sweet, even though lately you have been slightly sour. And they are my favorites, just like you."

            "Thanks."

            She rocked back and forth. "Yeah."

            They stood in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes when Arnold finally said, "Look, Helga, I'm sorry about the way I acted."

            "You shouldn't be. It was my fault."

            "Yeah, but I went overboard." He leaned against the rail and stared out at the city. "I was afraid that I was losing you."

            Helga's eyes widened. She walked over and stood beside him. "You're not loosing me, and I am not leaving you."

            "I know. I just, don't know."

            "Arnold, it was just one date."

            "Are there going to be more?"

            She did not reply at first. "I hope so. But it's not like I'm marrying him."

            "I just don't want you to get hurt."

            She smiled. "Is that why you throw a fit? To try to get me to not go with him?"

            Arnold blushed. "No. I don't really know what that was." He turned to her. "I just want you to be happy. You know that, right?"

            "Yeah, I know. And I appreciate you looking out for me, but you really don't need to."

            "I take it things went well, then?"

            "Yeah. He's really sweet, Arnold."

            He sneered. "I can't believe I missed that one," he said sarcastically. "I'm glad you're happy."

            "I know." She paused. "So are we okay?"

            Arnold nodded. "Yeah."

            She smiled. "Great. I better get going, though. I'll see you tomorrow."

            "Right."

            "And we'll work on the project then."

            "Helga, tomorrow's Friday."

            "So?"

            "So don't you want to go to a party or something?"

            She shook her head. "Nope. I want to work the project with you."

            He sighed. "And whatever Helga wants, Helga gets."

            Helga laughed. "Damn straight." She hugged him. "Good night, Arnold."

            "Night, Helga." He watched her as she left and as she pulled away. "Everything's fine, Helga." He stared at the blank sky. "Except that I have a crush on you, and you are with someone else."

A/N: That was nice and short. I like it, though it came out sappier then I intended it to be. Anyways, I really have to be working on my homework. I can't afford to fall behind, so updates will go back to their snail pace. But don't worry, I will be back and updating soon. Later days.


	10. While You were Sleeping

A/N: I am so happy I finally got to this chapter because there is a scene in here that I have been **dying** to write. It was actually one of the first parts of the story I thought of. I might have even thought of it before I came up with the plot. Anyways, it's a cute Arnold and Helga moment, so I hope you enjoy the chapter. And for everyone, be patient on the whole H/A thing. All things come to those who wait (it's hard for me too, because I know how this is going to unfold and I am very impatient!!).

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold! but I am hoping that the fact that Wendy's has Hey Arnold! toys is a sign that Nick will show the remaining episodes and the Jungle Movie, but I think I am being way too optimistic.

Where to Begin

Chapter 10 – While You were Sleeping

            The buzz around West Hillwood High on that chilly Friday was not about the girls basketball team's thrashing of New Prairie High School, in which the two teams nearly got in a fist fight, and both coaches where ejected (Arnold was really regretting not going to the game and was very surprised Helga had not said anything about it the night before). No, it was about the girl's top player and the boy's co-captain.

            Though it had taken two days, longer than normal for some unknown reason, most of the student body was talking about Jake and Helga, about how cute they were, or about how predictable it was. Much of the male population was depressed that Helga G. Pataki was most likely going to have a boyfriend, thus ending their chances with her, and most of the female population wanted to kill Helga for taking Jake Richardson off the market. The whole thing was too much for Arnold to handle, and his bad mood from the past two days quickly returned.

            "It's about time," Gerald said to Arnold while they waited for the bell to ring to dismiss them from weigh lifting.

            "What's about time?" Arnold asked as he took a drink of his bottled water. He suddenly felt very tired. He had taken out all of his frustrations in the weight room and was exhausted from it.

            "Helga and Jake."

            Arnold tried desperately to hide is disgust, but he had a feeling that Gerald would see through it anyways. "I guess."

            "The boy has been talking about her for ages. Now he'll probably talk about her even more." Gerald shuddered. "I like Helga and all, but I don't like hearing about her all the time from yet another person," he shot a look at Arnold.

            "Yeah," Arnold muttered. He was desperately wishing that Gerald would talk about something else. Arnold chugged the rest of his water, wondering if he could somehow drown himself by doing so.

            "I guess now that I think about it, it makes since that they are together?"

            "Why? Because they're both hot-shot basketball players?" Arnold snapped, slamming the empty bottle in the trashcan.

            Gerald raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with you?"

            "Nothing. It's just all I have heard today is about how great they look together and what a great couple they are."

            "They do make a great couple."

            "Oh, so now everything is based on how well people look together? What about having the same interests and personalities?"

            "Uh, Arnold, Helga and Jake do have the same interests and personalities."

            Arnold's eyes narrowed slightly. Gerald was beginning to worry about his friend. "Are you okay, man?"

            "I'm fine," the other boy replied, not sounding fine at all. Gerald was going to pry more information out of Arnold, but he thought better of it. Arnold would just end up getting pissed at him; the boy had been very touchy lately. He knew that Arnold would eventually tell him, and Gerald just hoped that Arnold could keep his sanity until then.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            Arnold's mood continued to darken when he waited for Helga by their lockers before eighth period. They always walked together. Arnold sighed after wasting time waiting, and left with two minutes until the bell rang. He did, however, run into someone else.

            "Arnold! I'm so glad I ran into you!"

            "Hi, Rhonda," he said blandly, still walking rather quickly.

            "I was wondering if you wanted to come with Helga and me on Saturday."

            "Go with you two to a salon and shopping? I don't think so. Thanks anyways."

            Rhonda would not take no for an answer for some reason beyond Arnold's comprehension. "Are you sure?"

            "Yes." Arnold began to walk faster, hoping that Rhonda would leave and go to her class.

            "Gerald and Phoebe are coming with us."

            "WHAT?" Gerald had not told him this information because if he did Arnold was sure that he would remember.

            "Helga asked Phoebe, and Gerald decided to come so that he and Phoebe could have some time to spend together since they have been so busy lately. And they have been a bit on the rocks," she said a matter-of-factly.

            "Who told you that one?"

            She shrugged. "That doesn't really matter." Arnold smirked. Naturally, Phoebe and Gerald had not told her that information directly, because it was not true. Yes, they both had been very busy lately and they had had a fight last weekend, but it was about something stupid, and Arnold had a feeling that if he asked them about it, neither would be able to recall what it was about. Once again, Rhonda had false information from the halls of West Hillwood High School. "So, are you in?" she asked.

            "No."

            "But Gerald's coming."

            "So? Gerald and I don't do everything together."

            "I think he would really appreciate if you were there. You know, another guy around."

            Arnold sighed. Helga would probably end up begging him to do it later anyways, and it would mean that she would be spending time with him (well, sort of) and not with Jake because there was no way he would join this group of people. Arnold smiled slightly. Jake hated Rhonda ever since she called him a man-slut last year at a party. That had been one of Rhonda's more entertaining moments. Arnold wondered if Helga remembered it. Maybe he should bring it up and see . . .

            "Hello? Arnold, are you coming?"

            "Fine," he said finally. He really needed to get to class, and he had a feeling this was the only way to get rid of Rhonda.

            Rhonda smiled. "Great! I'm so glad you are coming! Maybe we could work on your clothes as well," she said, trying to sound polite.

            Arnold looked down at his beige sweater and jeans. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

            "Uh, nothing. I'll see you later, Arnold."

            Arnold went to English feeling worse then he had a few minutes ago. I can't believe I let myself get roped into this. A whole days shopping and at a salon with Rhonda and Helga since Gerald and Phoebe will probably go off by themselves. At least it would be somewhat interesting.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            "Can someone please get Rei a singing coach? I am sick of listening to her sing off key."

            "Well, if I wasn't so preoccupied about avoiding running into you and your two left feet maybe I could sing better!"

            Helga watched the two in disgust. Though she loved Rei (who couldn't? She was five foot nothing, ninety pounds, and she could still kick anyone's ass if she felt like it), the girl spent a lot of time arguing with Lila, which was not good for anyone. They were once again working on "All that Jazz." Helga's throat was sore from singing, her legs were tired from dancing and from basketball practice, and her patience was wearing thin. Miss Sheltie and her assistances were arguing with Mrs. Chadwick because they were not getting paid enough to teach the girls to dance and to baby-sit them as well. Her eyes narrowed as the exchange continued.

            "Excuse me? Someone get Rei a pair of glasses because she cannot see that I am 10 times the dancer she is."

            "You only think that because you can do the splits and I can't. But that's not fair at all. I mean, it's easy for you because you have your legs spread most of the time anyways."

            Lila's and everyone else's jaws dropped. "You bitch!" Lila screamed as she lunged towards Rei, who was waiting to throw a few punches. Surprisingly, Helga was the one who stopped her. "Why the hell did you do that?"  Lila demanded as Helga dragged her away from Rei.

            "She would have beaten the shit out of you," Helga hissed.

            "Yeah, right." Helga shot her a dirty look. "Even so, you would have loved to have seen that."

            "Yeah, and I would love to see you gone from this pageant, but I would hate to see Rei kicked out because of your wining ass."

            Lila stared wide-eyed as Helga walked away from her. After a long moment of silence, Mrs. Chadwick gave the girls a long lecture about what an honor it was to be in the pageant and that the girls were representing their schools and needed to act like the young ladies that they were. Helga snorted at both of this. As far as she was concerned, it was not an honor to prance around on a stage in a dress and heels, and she could care less about what type of image she projected for West Hillwood. After Mrs. Chadwick finally left, Miss Sheltie put the girls in their places for the opening number, which was "Watch me Shine," by Joanna Pacitti, much to Helga's dismay. Furthermore, because their positions depended on how they were introduced at the beginning of the pageant, which was by school, Helga was placed beside Lila. Helga knew that if Miss Sheltie could, she would separate the two girls, but that was not going to happen.

            She groaned a half-hour later as she continued to have trouble with the difficult steps. _I already learned one frigging dance, why the hell do I have to memorize another one?_ she thought angrily. At least Lila was completely ignoring her. Well, she had been.

            Helga growled out of frustration. "The beast has finally emerged." Lila said to the other girls. "And it's not even a full moon."  A few of the girls laughed, though most were tired and sick of Lila. Helga flipped her off when Miss Sheltie looked away. Lila did not understand Helga's message and moved closer to Helga to annoy her. The blonde cursed silently, but was struck with inspiration. One of the steps called for the girls to push their elbows back as if they were pulling a bow, so Helga whipped hers back with as much force was her tired body could muster. She hit Lila squarely in the jaw, causing the girl to fly backwards. "Oops," Helga said sarcastically.

            "You bitch!" Lila cried as she leapt at Helga, who merely stood with her arms crossed and a bored look on her face. She stepped aside as Lila dove for her, and the girl landed flat on her face.

            "Pataki! Sawyer! Out in the hall now!" Miss Sheltie yelled, and the room filled with silence. Lila pushed herself up and followed Helga out the door. Miss Sheltie wasted no time getting to the point. "I don't know what the hell you two are trying to pull in there, but put your petty differences aside and just do this. I am tired, and so is everyone else in there. I understand that you are worn out, but that gives you no excuse to act like this. Trust me, Chadwick will not hesitate to throw you out, even if it fucks this whole thing up. You," she looked at Lila, "Stop trying to pick fights with everyone. And both of you need to stop being childish. I am here to help you, not to baby-sit you." She walked to the door. "You two can go home, I am tired of both of you, and if you still want to be in this, come back tomorrow with a hell of a lot better attitude and respect for each other and every other person here, or forget about this whole thing."

            She left the two girls alone. Helga glared at Lila, and walked away. "What are you doing?" Lila snapped at her.

            "Going home, idiot. What else would I be doing?"

            "Why did you hit me?"

            "I felt like it, Lila, and you have had that coming for a long time." Lila folded her arms and stuck her nose in the air. Helga rolled her eyes. "Can't we just call this a truce and try to be civil towards each other?" She walked towards the other girl and extended a hand. "Truce?"

            Lila glared at Helga's hand, and Helga thought she was going to spit in it for a moment. "A truce? With you? You have got to be kidding. From now on, this is war, Helga."

            Helga's eyes widened, and she shook her head. "Then you better be ready to lose." She walked to the dressing room, leaving Lila steaming alone in the hallway. Trust me, Lila, she thought. This is one thing I refuse to lose to you.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            Arnold had been waiting in Helga's car for a few minutes when she finally got in. She slammed the door shut, and Arnold wisely decided not to ask what happened. He noticed her hair was wet. "Did you take a shower?"

            "Yeah. Did you want me to go to your house smelling like God knows what while we're working on the project?"

            "No, I guess not." They drove in silence for a moment. "You are sure you want to do this?"

            Helga looked at Arnold from the corner of her eye. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

            "I dunno. Wouldn't you rather go to a party or something?"

            She wrinkled her nose. "No, at least not tonight. I'll be dealing with loads of superficial people tomorrow. I just want to hang out with my favorite football head. Besides, this is due on Monday, and we have hardly anything done."

            Arnold sighed. Staying at home working on homework was not what he had envisioned for his Friday night, but she had a good point. He glanced back at Helga and noticed her half-closed eyes. He was suddenly very scared for their safety. "Are you sure you aren't too tired?"

            Helga contemplated this. Yes, what she wanted to do the most at the moment was sleep for about a week, but she knew that that was not possible. She was glad that she could almost fully-function on four hours of sleep a night. "No, I'm fine."

            Arnold was not too sure about this, but he was smart enough to know that there was no use fighting her. Helga wanted to work on their US History project, and no one was going to stop her.

            They headed up to Arnold's room as soon as they arrived at the boarding house. Helga flopped down on Arnold's couch as she pulled the books out of her bag. "Where should we start?"

            "Background information, I guess. I think I left the papers I printed off the Internet downstairs, though," Arnold mumbled as he dug through piles of papers and books on his desk. "I'll be right back." He walked towards the door. "Do you want anything to drink?"

            "Yeah, lemonade." Arnold was halfway down the steps when she called after him, "And get me something to eat. Please," she added as an afterthought. Arnold rolled his eyes and went down to the kitchen.

            "Hey, Short Man, I didn't hear you come in. How's the pageant coming?" Grandpa asked behind the newspaper he was reading. Arnold noted the faint smell of herring in the air. He cringed slightly and fixed lemonade and sandwiches for Helga and himself. "Tiring."

            "Well, you're a strong, youthful boy. You'll be fine," Grandpa said, his speech muffled by the sandwich in his mouth. "Hey, is that girl with the ugly eyebrow here?"

            Arnold walked over to him. "Yes, she is, and don't call her that. Helga lost the unibrow ages ago, you know that."

            "I know, I know. Jeez, you don't have to get all defensive. You act like you got a thing for the little blonde."

            Arnold blushed. "I do not. Helga and I are just friends."

            Grandpa chuckled as he got up. "Right, Arnold. Just behave up there, okay?"

            Arnold glared at him. "'Night, Grandpa."

            "'Night, Short Man."

            Arnold walked back to his room and tapped lightly on the door so Helga would let him in, but the door remained closed. He knocked louder. Again, nothing. Arnold sighed and somehow managed to open the door without dropping anything. He waited for Helga to try to scare him or something to that extent, but he entered safely. He sat the food and papers down, and his heart skipped a beat when he looked across the room.

            Helga was fast asleep on his couch. Her blonde hair was fanned on the small pillow, and the moonlight shone on her face, making her appear very angelic. He moved quietly towards Helga to wake her up, but he realized how tired she had to be with basketball practice and pageant rehearsals every night, plus homework and her job . . . and late dates with Jake. Arnold sighed and crept slowly out of the room.

            He left a note on one of the empty rooms for his grandpa and wrote that Helga was staying in there. Arnold felt bad lying, but he felt it was for the best. He did not want the whole house to hear about how Arnold's female friend spent the night in his room. Then again, they might find out anyways. He shrugged and called the Pataki house, leaving a message on the machine explaining that Helga was sleeping in an extra room, but he doubted they would even worry about her not being home.

            Arnold want back upstairs and decided to do at least a little work on the project, so he highlighted and book marked information. He glanced at the sandwiches and realized how hungry he was. _I can't just let them go to waste_, he thought. Arnold turned the light off fifteen minutes later, after he finished his dinner.

            He took a quick shower and returned to his room with extra blankets for Helga, who was shivering slightly in her sleep. He placed them on her gently, and she stopped shaking. He gazed down at her, amazed at how peaceful and beautiful she looked.  He smiled slightly and went to his own bed. "Good night, Sleeping Beauty," he said softly aloud as he closed his eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

A/N: The second part of this cute moment will be in the next chapter, "That's What Girls Do." I am off to finish watching the baseball game. I want to apologize for taking so long to update. I have just been so busy lately that I never seem to have a spare moment, and when I do I usually spend it sleeping or something like that. The only time I have been really able to write is late at night before I go to bed, and I usually only get a few sentences down before I am about to fall asleep. But I finally got the chapter done, and I hope you liked it. Another happy note, the English paper is in its final stages, my geography project is done, but I still have a geometry project to do, and finals are next week (EEK!! CHEM FINAL!!). I believe I have four to start reviewing for, but I will be updating before the end of May. Later days.


	11. That's What Girls Do

A/N: Here it is, the first chapter of the summer!! I am so happy because I am now officially a junior (well, I don't think I flunked any of my classes so. . .) and I am pumped that I don't have to look at my English paper ever again and that I don't have to open a chem book for three months. Speaking of the English paper, I got a 95 (which is an A – on my teacher's impossible grading scale) and it was supposedly one of the best in the class. Yea for me. That's enough about school. Anyways, since I am currently unemployed (and unhappily in debt), I will be spending a lot of time writing, so hopefully I will be updating soon, barring some crazy computer crash or major writer's block, both of which have a good chance of happening (my computer is not the best . . .and that's a nice way of putting it). But for now, here is the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold! but I am looking forward to watching it on the Summer Beach House, and I hope that they will play the Summer Love and Married episodes. I have been dying to see both of them, but Nick doesn't seem to want to put them into regular rotation.

Where to Begin

Chapter 11 – That's What Girls Do

            Helga smiled as she began to wake up. She was amazed at how sometimes sleeping for a few minutes could feel like a few hours (and how a few fours could feel like only a few minutes, and she really hated that scenario). She turned on her side and started to fall back asleep. She vaguely wondered when Arnold was going to wake her up so they could work on the project; he'd been in the kitchen for a long time. _Here it comes_, she thought as he shook her shoulder lightly.

            "Helga, wake up."

            She groaned. "Five more minutes, Arnold. Then I promise we can start."

            He stopped. "Helga, you need to get up now."

            "Why? What's another five minutes? We have all night to work on the project."

            "Helga, it's 7:30."

            Her eyes snapped open and she was suddenly wide-awake. "WHAT?" she cried as she shot up and whirled around to look at him, hitting Arnold hard in the nose. He landed on the floor with a thud. "Helga, I think you broke my nose!"

            "What time is it?" she asked, though the sunshine falling through Arnold's skylight answered her question before she was finished asking it.

            "7:32," he said, gingerly touching his nose.

            "Why didn't you wake me up last night?"

            He looked her directly in the eye. "Helga, you looked exhausted last night. You needed to sleep."

            "But the project—"

            "Can wait," he finished as he stood up. "I brought toast up for you. I know you haven't eaten since lunch yesterday, and you should really eat more, but I figured you would not want much because you have practice at nine."

            "Arnold, I have practice at eight!"

            "Oh." He paused. "I guess you better hurry, then."

            She glared at him. Arnold merely shrugged. Helga growled as she flung the blankets off of her. She was muttering something as she left to go to the bathroom. Arnold cleaned up the mess and waited for there return of hurricane Helga. However, she was oddly tranquil when she came back. "What's wrong?" he asked.

            "I have a problem."

            "Helga, you lift the lid up and—"

            "Eew! That's disgusting, Arnold. Don't ever say that again."

            He laughed slightly. "What is it?"

            "I don't have any clothes to wear."

            "Go home and get clothes."

            "I don't have time."

            "So wear what you are wearing."

            "This is what I wore yesterday at practice."

            "And you put that on after your shower? And slept on my couch? That's gross." Arnold cringed.

            "I let them air out, and I wasn't expecting to spend the night!" She glared at him, her arms crossed.

            "So?"

            "So it will look bad if I am wearing the same clothes." Arnold blinked, so she continued. "And it will look as if I didn't go home last night."

            "But you didn't."

            "Arnold! My team knows I was coming over here, and if I go there wearing the same clothes it would look as if I spent the night."

            "But you did."

            "I know that! But it would look as if we, you know . . ."

            "As if we what?"

            "IT WOULD LOOK AS IF WE HAD SEX!" she screamed at her dense friend.

            "Oh. OH. Oops."

            She rolled her eyes. "So can I borrow some clothes?"

            He walked over to his drawers and pulled out a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, a sweatshirt, and a pair of socks. "Wait, if you are wearing my clothes, won't that look like we, you know?"

            She snatched the clothes from his hands. "I doubt they've memorized your wardrobe, Football Head." She left to go to the bathroom, grabbing the toast on her way.

            He gritted his teeth. "You're welcome."

            Helga came back in the room a few moments later and threw her stuff in her bag. "Hasta luego, Arnoldo," she said as she rushed out the door. Arnold sighed and went to the bathroom. His toothbrush, which he had left in the bathroom last night beside the rest of his toiletries, was lying beside the toothpaste tube, the cap about a foot away. He sighed. She's wearing my clothes, used my toothbrush, and left as soon as she could without cuddling. _I think I've had my first one nightstand_, he thought, _except I didn't have sex._

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            Helga was beyond exhausted. She had arrived two minutes late to practice and though she only had to run two laps after practice, it had been grueling by itself. Arnold was right, she was fatigued and would probably be in worse shape if he had not let her sleep. She was not surprised at how sweet he could be. However, it bothered her that he would let her sleep instead of working on the project, but he had had a fit when she went on her date with Jake. Helga knew that these were two different situations, but her date had been earlier in the week when they had more time to work, not on the Friday before the project was due. Why did Arnold go so spastic? I mean, I did blow him off, and that was shitty of me and I apologized, but I still can't shake the feeling that there was more to it then that.

            "Helga, wake up," Callie hissed.

            "Huh, oh, right," Helga stumbled slightly as she got up from her sitting position on the floor and went to her spot for the opening number. "Lila," she said as she stopped beside the annoying redhead.

            "Helga."

            Helga rolled her eyes and paid attention to Miss Sheltie, copying her moves and avoiding eye contact with Lila. The previous night's incident still lingered in the minds of all the girls; Helga had gotten a few glares when she walked in. She sighed. Why, out of all the girls in her school who could be in the pageant with her, why did it have to be Lila?

            They finished practicing dancing an hour later. Helga's feet were killing her and her patience was wearing thin. She had discovered that Lila was trying to annoy Helga so she would hit Lila and thus be kicked out of the pageant, but she was going to have to try harder than that.

            "Miss Pataki, have you decided on a talent performance?" Samson asked her after she was done practicing the dance numbers.

            "Ugh, don't remind me."

            "Miss Pataki, the pageant is in two weeks. It would be in your best interest to make your decision by Monday."

            "Helga could juggle basketballs or burp for five minutes. That's about all the talent she has. That and singing off key," Lila said from behind them.

            Samson was not amused. "Miss Sawyer, I believe?"

            "Yes," she replied, smiling sweetly.

            "I would suggest that you keep your mouth shut when it comes to talent. After all, Miss Pataki's parents did not have to pull a few strings to get her into the pageant."

            Lila's smile disappeared, and she glared at both of them. "Of course they didn't. Helga's parents don't even notice she's alive, between spending time with her sister and evading their taxes."

            Helga's face went bright red, and Samson glared coldly at Lila. "It's funny. I would assume that someone of your stature to have more class than someone who you claim is the daughter of crooks, but I guess that is the poor white trash part of you coming out. Miss Pataki, please follow me. We have work to do."

            Helga followed him, but she could not help but see the tears forming in Lila's eyes. Even though Lila had said awful things to her, she felt that what Samson said went too far. "Thanks, but don't you think you crossed the line?"

            He looked Helga squarely in the eye. "Helga, Lila has no right to act like she is superior to you and deserved everything I said to her for making such low insults."

            Helga nodded, but she could not help but feel bad for Lila. It was easy to forget that the girl still had feelings. Callie interrupted Helga's thoughts. "Hey, Helga! Arnold's waiting for you!"

            "Okay." She turned to Samson. "I promise I will have something in mind for Monday."

            "Right. Good day, Miss Pataki."

            Helga ran to the lobby where Arnold, Josh, and Callie were sitting. Josh and Callie seemed to be fighting about something.

            "What are you talking about? That movie sucked!"

            "I am telling you. Tom Hanks was much better in _Cast Away_ than in _Big_."

            "You have got to be kidding me! Arnold, which do you think Tom Hanks was better in?"

            Arnold stared at both of them. "Uh, personally I liked Forrest Gump the best."

            Josh shook his head. "What about you, Helga?"

            "Ditto, though I really liked _Toy Story_. I mean, Tom Hanks as a cowboy doll. What could be better than that?"

            Arnold raised an eyebrow at her. "What?" she snapped. He just shook his head. "Are you ready to go?"

            "Go where?" Callie asked. 

            "My friend is taking us shopping," Helga said simply.

            "Shopping? Can I go?"

            "Uh," she started, but Josh interrupted her. "And you are going?" he asked Arnold.

            "Uh, yeah. My friend Gerald and his girlfriend are also coming."

            "Well, do you mind if I come too? I got nothing to do."

            Arnold rolled his eyes. You only want to come because Callie's coming. "Sure," Helga and Arnold said together. Josh and Callie ran outside together, making plans for the afternoon. Arnold sighed. "This just got even more interesting."

            Helga shrugged. "I guess." She pushed the door open and walked slowly to her car.

            "Hey, Helga?"

            "What?"

            "Nice clothes."

            She glared at him. "Yeah, they look a hella lot better on me than on you." She smirked. "I think I'll just keep them."

            "Helga! That's my favorite shirt!"

            "This?" She looked down at the old basketball camp shirt. "You have got to be kidding me! It's hideous!"

            "Then I guess you won't mind parting with it, than?"

            She thought about it for a while. "Hmm. . . wrong!" she cried as she ran away from him.

            "Helga! Get back here!" He ran after her._ This is going to be one long day_, he thought.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            Josh and Arnold waited for Helga outside her house in Josh's red '86 Cutlass. Callie was in the back staring out the window, and Arnold guessed she was wishing she could get out of the hideous car and away from dull-as-dirt Arnold and Josh, the crazy boy who was in love with her. Arnold did not know what to think of the girl yet. His thoughts were interrupted by Helga slamming her front door shut. She ran towards the car, dressed in typical Helga fashion: jeans, t-shirt, sweatshirt jacket, light blue and white Vans, and her black pea coat, though today she wore her long hair down instead of up in a ponytail. "Let's go," she said, and they sped downtown to A Pour Vedette la Lumière, a beauty salon on Keystone Avenue, Hillwood's version of 5th avenue or Rodeo Drive, to meet Rhonda, Gerald, and Phoebe.

            The other three were already there when they arrived, and Rhonda wrinkled her nose at Josh's car. Her face burst into a large smile when she saw Helga get out of the car. "Oh, Helga, aren't you excited? This is the last time you will ever have to wear those atrocious clothes!"

            "Thrilled," Helga said, her dark eyes glaring at Rhonda.

            "Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, you are as bitchy as ever," Callie said as she walked up to Rhonda, a smirk on her face.

            "I still have a long way to reach your standards, Callista Reese Oxford Faye Hayeworth," Rhonda snapped, and the other five watched in horror as the two girls embraced.

            "Wait, you two know each other?" Helga managed to ask.

            "Yeah, we spent one awful summer together at finishing school," Rhonda said with a laugh. "This is Gerald Johanssen, and Phoebe Hyerdahl, and you already know Helga and Arnold, but who is this boy with the, er, _classic_car?"

            "Oh, it's just Josh. Don't mind him."

            "Thanks, Cal," he said.

            "Anytime. So, where are we going?" Callie asked Rhonda. The two led the way. Gerald and Phoebe followed, and Helga, Arnold, and Josh walked together in the back. Helga stared at the bright, cloudless sky as they walked. "I can't believe I am doing this," she mumbled.

            "Relax, it will be over before you know it," Arnold said, trying to cheer her up.

            "Do you think it is too late to fake my own death and move to Canada?"

            Josh, who was usually the one saying odd things, stared at Helga after her strange comment. "What would you do in Canada?" he asked cautiously.

            "I dunno, eat bacon and live with a pack of penguins. Wait, they live at the South Pole, not in Canada.  Okay, I'll play hockey, eat bacon, and live with the moose in the off season."

            "Moose?" Josh and Arnold asked together.

            "Yeah, moose."

            "Why moose?" Josh asked.

            "Why not? I can't live with the penguins. Wouldn't you like to live with a bunch of moose?"

            "I can't say I've ever thought about it."

            "Well, maybe you should."

            "Is she always like this?" Josh whispered to Arnold as Helga returned to staring at the sky and daydreaming of living in the Canadian wilderness.

            "Sleep depravation affects people in different ways," was all he said.

            "It looks nice," Arnold said when they reached the outside of the salon.

            "You only say that because it has a French word in the title. For all we know it could mean, I don't know, dead raccoon."

            "Helga, you take French."

            "So do you, and you know that woman has not taught us a damn thing in the two and a half years we have been taking her class." Arnold decided not to say anything else so that Helga would not go into a spiel about how horrible their school's teachers were. She could talk about that for hours.

            The group walked into the salon, and automatically Arnold felt he was in a mental institution; it was very white, very clean, and he could not tell if there really was weird techno music playing or if it was just inside his head. Rhonda led them to the front desk where a young woman was filing her nails. He could tell her natural hair was a dark red underneath the bright red and blonde highlights. Crystal blue eyes were hidden behind cat-eye glasses and spider-like eyelashes. Her porcelain complexion blended with the while walls, yet greatly contrasted with her form-fitting black dress. She was very skinny and reminded Arnold that sometimes girls could be too thin. She had not acknowledged their presence until Rhonda cleared her throat.

            "Yes?" she said in a pseudo-European accent. Her lip curled up in mild disgust. "You are the Lloyd girl, right?"

            "Yes," Rhonda said haughtily.

            "What problem are we going to have fixed today?"

            Rhonda sneered, yet remind pleasant. It was all very creepy. "Actually, my friend has an appointment."

            The girl's eyes settled on Phoebe. "Does she want to learn how to color her hair properly?"

            Phoebe blushed and Gerald looked like he was going to jump the girl. Personally, Arnold liked Phoebe's hair. It was stick straight and was slightly choppy. Blue and purple lowlights finished her look by complimenting her dark locks. Helga stepped forward looking very annoyed. "It's my appointment."

            "Oh. Well, we can't afford to waste any more time then. My name is Raquel, and if you need anything just call."

            "Raquel?" Helga asked.

            "Yes, that's my name." Helga raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Raquel picked up the phone. "Paolo, your twelve of clock is ready."

            "Twelve of clock? Who says twelve of clock? That's what the apostrophe is for!" Gerald whispered to Arnold. Arnold just shrugged.

            A few moments later, a very thin man dressed in black from head to toe and sunglasses burst through a pair of French doors that separated his part of the salon from the rest. He snapped his fingers. "My dear Raquel, who is my next masterpiece in waiting?"

            "The blonde girl," she said simply as they kissed cheeks (or did they just bump cheeks? Arnold could not tell from his angle). She handed him a small cup of cappuccino as a group of solemn women emerged from behind the French doors. They were all beautiful women, but every one of the girls looked alike; the same hair style though different shades, same make-up, same short black dress, same hose, same shoes, same jewelry, and same expressionless face. Arnold sighed. Is this what Helga is going to become? He glanced at Rhonda and feared for Helga's future. Paolo began to circle Helga like a vulture. "Let me see." He lifted her chin. "Decent bone structure, clear complexion, though it is a bit on the pale side. We will need to use sunless tanning lotion. The make-up needs a lot of work. The eyes are nice, but hidden behind caveman brows."

            "You should have seen her when she was younger," Gerald piped up. He was silenced by everyone's glares. Helga looked like she was about to kill him.

            "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," Paolo continued. Arnold would have guessed the man was Italian, but his accent sounded more German. Or was it more French? Heck, he might change it to Russian before the conversation was over. "The brows need to be dealt with. The hair," he paused momentarily for dramatic effect. Or what he thought was dramatic effect. "A passable color, but the natural highlights need to be enhanced, and it needs to be shortened and shaped." He took her hand and raised an eyebrow at her. "You are rather skinny. Tell me, do you live on your finger nails because that is what it looks like when I see your hands." Helga blushed furiously. "Come, we begin," he yelled shrewdly.

            Helga was led through the French doors and was sat down in a large, black leather chair in front of numerous mirrors and hair care products, while the others sat against the wall in very stylish yet very uncomfortable black leather chairs, far away from Helga and Paolo. Raquel handed them mugs. "Here, you can drink cappuccino and read magazines. Maybe you could learn a thing or two."

            Gerald opened the copy of _Vogue_ that Raquel threw in his lap. "How am I supposed to read this?"

            Raquel, who had been talking with Rhonda (if you could call it that. She was actually telling Rhonda everything that was wrong with her outfit), kneeled slightly in front of Gerald. "You see, you open up the magazine and –"

            "I know how to read," he said loudly. "But the magazine's in Italian."

            "What, you want it in English?"

            "Well, that is what language we speak in this country the last time I checked."

            She rolled her eyes and threw him a copy of _Self_. Arnold pulled the Hank Aaron autobiography out of Josh's bag and Josh began to read the latest _Sports Illustrated_.

            "Ah, man, do you have something I can read?" Gerald asked the other two boys.

            "Sorry," they said. "You should have brought something," Arnold said as she started chapter six.

            Gerald began to pout. Phoebe was talking to the other girls and the boys were reading. "Screw you guys. You don't know what you are missing. I mean, I have been dying to," he opened the magazine. "Learn the best methods for waxing?!"

            Phoebe, Callie, and Rhonda stopped talking and stared at him. "I have needs too!" he cried. The girls returned to their conversation and decided to leave Gerald alone for a while.

            "Now, my dear," Paolo said as he tossed Helga's hair a couple of times. He had first made her change into a skimpy little dress. Arnold figured he was just some kind of pervert (though his first guess was that Paolo was gay), but Rhonda said it was normal and that he would understand in a while. Helga, however, did not seem happy at all. "I am sure you have a wonderful personality, but I am not here to worry about that. I only care about the external beauty."

            "That's a hell of a message to send to teenage girls everywhere," Helga spat as she rolled her eyes.

            He grabbed her chin and jerked her face towards his. "No no, you will not speak. You will only watch as I create beauty that you have never imagined." She glared at him but said nothing. "Now," he snapped his fingers and the girls brought him the supplies for highlighting Helga's hair. "I will streak you hair. You are a blonde, I can feel it."

            "Gee, I never noticed the blonde hair that was growing out of my head. I always thought it was red," she muttered.

            "Silence!" he cried, and began to apply the color. "Yes, you are blonde, but you have not captured the true blonde from within!" Helga just rolled her eyes. A half hour and many chemicals later, Paolo was finished highlighting, and Helga looked like she was picking up basic cable. He snapped his fingers again. "Girls, the next step, please."

            Arnold, Gerald, and Josh sat up at this. The girls brought out a cart filled with hot wax. The three boys had never understood why girls would go to such pains. Then again, they did not enjoy dating a girl with more body hair than they had. "First, the brows."

            One girl applied the wax while others began working on her pedicure. "You can tell a lot about a girl from her feet and her eyebrows," Paolo said.

            "And what is that OW!" Helga cried as the hair was ripped out.

            "Silence, my child. Just listen to Paolo. Do not question him."

            "Ow!" she cried again as the left brow was waxed. The boys cringed along with Helga as her eyebrows were tweezed. "Thank God I was blessed with eyebrows and not a unibrow," Gerald said.

            "Amen to that," Josh added.

            "Thank God," Helga said when the girl was finished. "Damn it," she hissed as more wax was poured on her legs.

            "It must be done, my dear Helga," Paolo said. The boys watched in horror as the hair was ripped and ripped again from Helga's legs. "I have never been so glad I was a guy," Gerald said.

            Helga whimpered as her legs were waxed. She sighed at the end. "One more girls," Paolo said.

            "I can assure you that my arm pits are hair free. Then again, so were my legs, but that didn't stop you."

            "I was not referring to your arm pits."

            Helga's, Arnold's, Gerald's, Josh's and Phoebe's eyebrows shot up at this. "No, no, no, no! You are not doing that!"

            "Helga, it has to be done."

            "No, it doesn't!"

            "Helga."

            "No!"

            "Don't you want to win the swimsuit competition?"

            "There is no swimsuit competition!"

            "Oh. Well then, we can move on."

            Helga's nails were done and she was tanned up with the sunless tanning lotion and was given a facial. After Paolo rinsed her hair, he put her back in the chair and took out a pair of scissors. "So, my dear Helga, what did you have in mind?"

            "Just a little trim," she said, surprised that he would ask for her opinion.

            "Here," he said, pointing just below her shoulder.

            "No, more about here," she said, putting her finger on her hair about two inches up from the ends, which reached halfway down her back.

            "Here," he said, going a little higher.

            "No, here," she said, gesturing to the same spot.

            "Okay, you talked me into it," he said as he chopped off a bunch of hair just below her chin. The others watched in amazement, and Helga was too stunned to form words. "See, you are speechless. That is a wonderful thing." He continued cutting her hair, and Helga remained motionless. "Come, we finish with your makeup," he said, leading Helga to a back part of the salon.

            "Poor Helga," Phoebe said.

            "What's so poor about her? I'm paying for this whole thing and she better appreciate it," Rhonda snapped.

            "Maybe she wasn't ready for this," Phoebe added.

            "What's to be ready for? It's just a snip and a rip here and there. She will look a million times better once she is done."

            Paolo returned looking exhausted. "It has taken every bit of strength that Paolo possesses, but my dear Rhonda, Paolo never disappoints. Here is the new Helga!" he cried. Helga walked about behind him, dressed in her normal clothes, and looking extremely nervous. Her long blonde hair was now at her chin and was styled so that the layers flipped out. Her makeup was very natural and she seemed to be glowing. Her nails were done in a perfect French manicure and Arnold could only guess her toes looked similar.

            "Another masterpiece!" Rhonda cried.

            "Wow," Josh breathed.

            "Ditto," Gerald said.

            Arnold was as amazed as the others, but he could not help but notice the gleam of sadness in Helga's dark eyes. "You look great, Helga," he said.

            "Thanks," she replied quietly. Callie and Phoebe detected it as well because they downplayed Helga's latest transformation.

            "Ooh, Helga, now we get to go shopping with your new look!" Rhonda cried as she paid for Helga's hefty beauty bill. She grabbed Helga's arm and pulled her out the door and down the street. Josh and Gerald quickly followed, and Arnold and the other girls walked slowly in the back.

            "Something's bothering her," Phoebe said.

            "She just had a layer of skin ripped off. You wouldn't be happy either," Callie said.

            "I think I goes deeper then that." Arnold sighed. "She did not want this at all."

            "I know," the girls said together. "But what can we do? Rhonda's taken over," Phoebes finished.

            Arnold wished he could talk to Helga alone, but Rhonda was not letting the girl get three feet away from her. She led them from one boutique to another, buying piles of clothes, jewelry, and shoes without asking Helga if she even liked the outfits. The others watched as Helga tried on outfit after outfit, all designer clothes, but Helga did not seem to want to be a human billboard. She only seemed to like two of the hundreds of outfits she tried on. Helga felt like she was with Johnny Stitches again, though the clothes he designed for her looked like her normal ones. The clothes Rhonda was buying for her looked nothing like the rest of her wardrobe; they looked very New Yorkish and very modern and sophisticated. Helga felt guilty for hating everything Rhonda was doing for her, but she could not help it. She wanted to be her own person, not Rhonda's puppet. She was about to fall over when Rhonda proclaimed, "Last stop!"

            Helga looked up at the signed. Reilly Dresden was written in block letters. _At least she's sane_, she thought. Helga had come extremely close to strangling not only Rhonda but also many of the stupidly crazy and annoying workers on their odyssey to make Helga look like a clone of Rhonda. Well, a blonde one. Helga pulled the door open and was surprised to see Reilly herself sitting in a chair sewing the hem of a short black dress. Rhonda spoke up first. "Ms. Dresden, it is a pleasure to see you again."

            Reilly looked up and stared at Rhonda for a moment as if trying to place the annoying voice and face with someone she had met before. She gave up and turned to Helga. "Helga, darling, it's ever so nice to see you. And you brought Ms. Hayeworth with you. How ever so charming."

            Helga was about to faint from shock and being disgusted when Callie spoke up. "Been working with the bitch, have we?"

            Reilly smiled. "Yeah, she was just in. This is her dress, actually." Reilly held the slinky thing up for everyone to see it.

            "That's what she's wearing? It's a little trashy, don't you think?" Phoebe asked. She covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh, I am sorry, Ms. Dresden. I didn't mean to insult you."

            "It's okay. I agree with you. I make a few of those every once in a while because some people like to look like that." She stood up and stretched. "I pissed her and her stepmother off, though. Lila was dead set on wearing this dress, and I told her that if she wanted to wear such a plunging neck line she better get herself something to hold it up." Reilly laughed. "Yeah, they got a bit mad at me, but what can you do?"

            Helga smiled. She finally found someone today who could help her without making her feel like she was trailer trash just because she did not wear designer clothes. _I guess all that is about to change_, she thought as the looked at the numerous bags Arnold, Gerald, and Josh were carrying.

            "Oh, girls, I finished your costumes for 'All that Jazz.'" She walked over to a large group of clothes and pulled out two short, white fringed dresses. Helga just stared at it when Reilly handed to her. "What's wrong with it?"

            "Well, it looks like it would only cover about two inches of my butt," Helga said, examining the dress even more.

            "Just try it on." Callie and Helga disappeared behind two gold curtains and the others sat down. Or rather, Rhonda and Phoebe sat down; Gerald, Josh, and Arnold collapsed on a sofa. They had spent the afternoon carrying a combined thirty-three heavy bags up and down Keystone Avenue. Josh sighed. "Remind me never to go shopping with the fashion witch ever again."

            "Only if you remind me too," Gerald said. Rhonda merely crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air. It was clear that she was still mad about Reilly snubbing her.

            Callie was the first to come out of the dressing room. She strutted out and spun around a couple of times. Hers was a halter style and had white sequins with gold fringe. Callie's was cut short as well and hugged her curves nicely. Arnold noticed that Josh's eyes were about to fall out. "I love it. It's perfect, Reilly."

            "I knew you would like it. Now I want to see the star of the show, please," she yelled at Helga.

            "No way!"

            "Helga, come on. It's just your friends and I out here. I need to see if the dress needs to be altered." She raised an eyebrow as Callie began to practice their routine in the dress.

            "Oh, it definitely needs altered."

            "What's wrong with it?"

            "My ass is hanging out of it. That's what is wrong with it!"

            "Helga, just let me see it."

            "No!"

            "Helga, stop being such a baby and just come out," Gerald said as he rubbed his forehead.

            "Fine! You want to see it, here it is!" Helga whipped the curtain back and glared at them, and Arnold felt his jaw drop. Helga looked unbelievable. The dress was all white fringes with spaghetti straps. It was cut low, but tastefully low, and Helga was right about the length, but Arnold had to admit, with legs like hers, there really was no need to hide them. She looked even better now that she was tanner. She walked over to the boys, all of whom were staring at her, and pulled out a pair of white stilettos. She sat down to put them on, careful not to show anyone something they were not supposed to see. She stood up, and the boys could not take their eyes off her long legs. "How does this look?" she asked as she stood up.

            "Amazing," Gerald said, and Phoebe glared at him.

            Helga laughed. "Does this mean I will have no trouble winning over the male judges?"

            "Nope!" Callie giggled.

            "So, is it okay?" Reilly asked.

            Helga sighed. "Yeah, I guess."

            "Good because now the fun part begins." She pulled out a five carts filled with dresses. "Take your pick."

            Helga and Callie exchanged glances and then bombarded the carts, carrying as many dresses as they could into the dressing room. Callie came out first wearing a shiny gold dress with a low back and neckline. "This is what I am wearing to the banquet." She went back to the dressing room and picked to more dresses, one for the talent competition and one for the evening gown competition, and sat down in her normal clothes. "Where's Helga? Hasn't she come out yet?"

            "No," Gerald moaned. "Can someone please tell that girl that the purpose of trying clothes on is to put it on, show us, decide if it is good or not, and move on. Why is that so hard for her to understand?"

            Callie and Phoebe sighed and went into Helga's dressing room. "Helga, what's wrong?" Phoebe asked.

            "I am not doing this."

            Callie sighed. "Helga, we have been through this all day. Can you do us a favor and just pick a dress?"

            Helga shot her a dirty look and sighed. Phoebe smiled. "Helga, at least pick a pretty dress," she said as she looked at the green dress Helga was wearing.

            "What's wrong with it?"

            "It looks like the Little Mermaid throw up a side of guacamole."

            Helga and Callie laughed. "I guess you are right. But what am I supposed to wear?"

            Callie and Phoebe smiled at each other and then at Helga. "Honey, just leave it to us."

            Fifteen minutes later, the three girls finally came out of the dressing room with three dress bags. "We are ready to go!" Callie cried.

            "Let me see." Reilly walked over and opened each of the bags. "Amazing. These were the three dresses I was hoping you would wear. Girls, you got great taste." She walked over to the counter and wrote down a few receipts and handed them to Callie and Helga. "Just return the dresses to me after the banquet. And Callie, I have your other dress done." She handed it to her. "If you girls need anything, just call."

            "Thanks, Reilly. See ya later. Let's go, guys," Helga said as she walked to the door.

            "About time," Josh groaned.

            "Aren't you going to show us?" Rhonda asked.

            "You'll see them eventually since you will want to help pick out jewelry."

            "Oh yeah."

            "What about the rest of us?" Arnold asked.

            Helga stared at him for a moment and laughed. "You like this whole shopping thing, don't you. Football Head?"

            Arnold blushed. "No, I just wanted to know what you were going to wear."

            "Well, you will just have to be surprised," she said, laughing. Arnold smiled. It was nice to see her happy again.

  ¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            "I can not believe you made me wear this to a basketball game."

            Helga was standing outside the West Hillwood High gym freezing her butt off. Rhonda had made her wear a khaki mini skirt, tall tan boots, and a white blouse with pink and gold stripes that showed some of her midriff. It was not the best thing to wear considering the temperature was well below freezing. Rhonda had also dolled her up so that she looked as if she was twenty-two instead of sixteen. She tapped her foot impatiently and to see if it still worked.

            "You look great, Helga." Phoebe said, trying to cheer Helga up. It did not work.

            "Rhonda, seriously. Why couldn't you wait until Monday to unveil me to the public? Why couldn't I wear my own clothes one last time, kinda like a last meal sort of thing?" She snapped as she pulled the door open.

            "Helga, please don't refer to the new look that I spent hundreds of dollars on as a sort of death row. For some odd reason, our school chooses basketball games to be major social events, so it is the perfect chance to show yourself off."

            "What if I don't want to show myself off?"

            "Trust me, you will be fine."

            Helga growled and walked into the gym. As she led the way to the student's section in the bleachers, she could feel the hundreds of gazes following her.  Matt Gordon yelled at her as she climbed the steps. "Helga Pataki, looking mighty fine tonight!"

            She sat down two rows behind him. "Thanks, Gordon."

            "Yeah, Helga, you are looking sweet," another boy called. Many more were staring at her.

            "See, isn't this great?" Rhonda asked her.

            "Yeah, great," Helga replied as a bunch of girls crowded around her to ask her were she got her clothes and who cut her hair. 

            "Hey, aren't you from St. James?" a boy asked Callie when all the girls left.

            "Yeah," she said with a little smile.

            "So shouldn't you be sitting in the away bleachers since you are from the opposing school."

            Callie's smile disappeared and she glared at the boy. "You know, I sat over here because I saw you when I walked inside, and I thought you were cute."

            "Really?" the boy asked. He was a really cute senior who had hung out with Helga and Jake a couple times. He was also a major ass.

            "Yeah, but since you are acting all bitchy to me, I think I will just sit back and watch the game from whatever side of the gym I feel like. So turn around."

            His friends bust out laughing at him, but the boy just stared at her in disbelief. "I told you to turn around!" she said and pushed the boy away with her foot. The people around her went crazy.

            "Yeah! About time someone told Turner what's what."

            "Hell yeah! That girl's awesome!"

            Callie smiled at Helga. "I like your school."

            "That makes one of us. You weren't really looking at Turner when we walked in, were you?"

            "Heck no. There are tons of guys like that at St. James. I could see it from across the gym."

            Helga just laughed and watched the game, which was difficult considering that every few minutes someone would comment on her new look, and Lila was glaring at her every chance she got. She managed to survive it all and was happy to see that her two favorite guys played really well in their win. "I'll see you guys later," Helga said to Phoebe, Callie, and Rhonda as she went to talk to Jake after the game.

            "Helga!" he cried. Jake picked her up and spun her around a few times. "Helga, you amazing."

            "Really?"

            "Yep." He kissed her lightly as he put her down. "So, what do you want to do, my dear? The night is yours."

            She giggled. "You have no idea how dorky you sound, do you?"

            "I am aware, but I don't care because I have the most gorgeous girlfriend so it doesn't really matter how I look, now does it?"

            "Nope."

            "So, what shall we do?"

            "I don't care."

            "What to go to a party?"

            She shrugged slightly. "Why not?"

            He smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "Great! I can't wait to show you off." _Great_, she thought as he grabbed her hand and pulled her outside.

  ¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            Helga glanced at her watch. 11:38. She sighed. She had been at this party for nearly two hours and she was bored out of her mind. She was watching a movie (she had been watching it for a half hour and she still was not sure what it was) and people make complete fools of themselves. She had already seen a boy who had a steady girl friend make out with a freshman, a couple break up and then make up, and had seen three people puke from drinking too much. Jake was currently playing pool with some of his friends. He had "showed her off" for the first half hour they were there and then he decided to shoot pool. Helga, on the other hand, tried to make conversation with people at the party, who were mostly seniors and seemed to love her new look, and had played poker for an hour. She smiled as she thought about the wad of cash in her purse. That taught the boys never to play poker for money with her. She sighed and returned her attention back to the movie.

            "Hey, Helga, how's it going?" Jeff Hershey asked her as he sat down beside her. Jeff was in her Chem II class, and she had always gotten along with him.

            "Fine. How 'bout you?"

            "Good, good." He held up a glass. "Beer's good, party's good, life's good, I'm good."

            Helga smiled politely at his attempt to be witty and prepared herself for a couple of minutes with another member of the drunk population of the party, which was most of them. "Sound's like you are having a hell of a time."

            "Yeah, yeah. Say, you know what else is good?"

            "What?"

            "You. You are looking real good tonight, Helga."

            "Thanks," she said slowly. She tried to slide away from him, but he put his arm around her and pulled her closer to him. "Uh, Jeff, could you maybe let go of me?" she asked, but he ignored her.

            "Yeah, Helga Pataki, you are looking really good tonight. I always thought you were a sexy chic, but tonight you have really out done yourself."

            "That's nice, but I really think I should find Jake." She tried to push him away, but he tightened his grip.

            "No, no, stay Helga. Just stay a little longer." His words trailed off as he began kissing her neck.

            "Okay, Jeff, I think I need to be leaving now." She tried to get up, but Jeff pushed her and made her lay on the couch. He pinned her down and began to move his hands down her back as he kissed her collarbone. 

            "Jeff, seriously, GET OFF!" she cried. _Why the hell isn't anyone doing anything_? she thought. They were not the only ones in the living room.

            "Shh, Helga, you are ruining this beautiful moment," he whispered as he began kissing her on the lips. She almost threw up when he put his tongue in her mouth. She pushed him away from her. She struck him in the nose with her palm.

            He rolled off of her, holding his nose. "Damn it, Helga! What the fuck did you do that for?"

            She stood up on the couch and tried to jump off it and get away, but Jeff grabbed her legs. "Helga, don't do this. C'mon."

            Helga managed to kick him in the gut, and the first thing she heard when he dropped her was a loud crack. She looked back and saw Jeff on the ground. Jake helped her up and hugged her tightly. "My God, Helga, are you okay?"

            "Yeah, I think so." She looked up at him. "Can we just go?"

            "Yeah." He led her to the door. Alexis Manley, the girl who was hosting the party, stopped them before they left. "Helga, I am so sorry."

            "It's okay, Alexis. It was not your fault."

            "Are you okay?"

            "Yeah, now I am."

            Alexis smiled. "Thank goodness Jake was there to beat the shit out of Jeff."

            "Yeah."

            "I'll see you guys on Monday, and I am really sorry."

            "Don't worry about it, Alexis," Jake said. "Later." He opened the car door for Helga and helped her in. He glanced at her as he started the car. "Are you sure you are alright?"

            "Yeah, I think so." She sighed. "It's no big deal. So a drunken loser tried to make out with me. It was nothing I couldn't handle." He did not say anything. "But I am glad you were there to help me."

            "I should have been there the whole time. I am sorry I wasn't."

            "Jake, I don't expect you to spend every minute with me at a party. You were with your friends, and there was no way you could have guessed that would happen. And what are the chances it will happen again, especially since you gave Jeff one hell of a bruise on his jaw."

            Jake blushed slightly. "I guess so. I can see why he did it, though. You look amazing tonight, Helga."

            It was her turn to blush. "Thanks," she said as they pulled up to her house. "Well, good night," she whispered to him as they walked up to her stoop.

            "Well, not quite," he said. "I was wondering if I could get something to drink really quick."

            She smirked at him. "Is that what they refer to it as nowadays?"

            "No," he said laughing. "I had two beers and I want something to drink to cover up the smell so that my mom doesn't notice."

            "Are you sure you don't just want a breath mint?" she asked as she opened the door.

            "That'll work as well."

            Helga giggled as she stepped into the house, but her mood quickly changed. "Shit."

            "What's wrong?"

            She jerked her head in the direction of the living room. "My parents are still up."

            "Really? I'd love to meet them." Jake stared towards the living room.

            "Jake, no!" she cried but it was too late. 

            "Helga, honey, are you home?" Miriam called.

            Helga smacked herself in the forehead as she walked into the living room. "Yeah. Uh, Mom, Dad, this is Jake Richardson, my boyfriend. Jake, this is my mom, Miriam, and my dad, Bob."

            "It's nice to meet you," Jake said.

            "Oh, honey it's nice to meet you, too," Miriam said, shaking his hand. "Helga has told us so much about you."

            Helga rolled her eyes. When was this, Mom, during our mother-daughter camping trip last weekend?

            "Richardson, eh? You the shooting guard for the basketball team?"

            "Yes, sir," Jake said, sitting down. Helga said beside him and prayed that her parents would act normal. "Yeah, in fact, we played today and won 79 – 56."

            "Wow, that's great," Miriam said as she sipped her coffee. "How did you do?"

            Jake laughed. "Not bad. I had fifteen points, six assists, and eleven rebounds. At least I think I did. All I know is that the team won and played well."

            "Ah, there's no need to be humble when you are good. I tell Helga that all the time, but she never listens."

            Helga could not believe her ears. Big Bob had not been to a game all season and definitely had not giver her advice, though that did sound like the kind of crappy advice he'd give her.

            Jake was laughing. "Yeah, but Helga's one of those rare players who are great and humble." He squeezed her hand.

            "Yeah, she is one of those golden players," Bob replied. Helga managed to force a tight smile. At the moment all she wanted to do was scream at her parents and tell them what liars and awful parents they were. They continued to make small talk with Jake and act like model parents.

            "So, Helga dear, how's the pageant coming?" Miriam asked.

            "Fine, Mom. It's going just fine."

            "Have you seen her practice?" Bob asked Jake.

            "A little, but I am sure she will be great." He smiled at her, and she tired to smile wider, but all she wanted to do was scream.

            "Damn right. She'll do great. Just like her older sister, Olga."

            Helga's eyes narrowed. She was wondering when Olga's name would come into the mix. Naturally, Big Bob and Miriam began to talk about their amazing and perfect daughter. Jake smiled politely, but she could tell he did not care about Olga. Another plus for Jake, she thought.

            "Well, I really have to go. I don't want to keep you up any longer. It was very nice meeting you," Jake said after a few minutes of Olga stories.

            "It was nice to meet you too, Jake," Miriam said.

            "Yeah, you'll have to come back so we can talk more sports," Bob said.

            "C'mon, Jake, I'll get you that drink." Helga pushed him towards the kitchen and away from her parents. She handed him a Coke and a stick of Big Red gum.

            He took a long drink. "Thanks. You know, Helga, your parents aren't that bad," he whispered as she walked him to his car. "Sure they talk about your sister a lot, and that was a little weird, but they are just proud of her, just like they are proud of you." He kissed her gently, as if he was afraid he would hurt her. "Are you sure you are okay?"

            "Yes, Jake, I am fine." She kissed him deeply. They pulled apart after a few moments. "I guess so," he breathed. Helga giggled. "Good night, Helga," he said, finally pulling away and got in his car.

            "Bye, Jake," she watched him as he drove away, and she went back inside. She grabbed a glass of orange juice and almost made it upstairs before Miriam called, "Helga, honey, come here. Your father and I want to talk to you."

            Helga growled and walked back to the living room. She sat back down and glared at her parents. "What?"

            Miriam ignored her daughter's displeased tone. "So, Jake seems like a nice boy."

            "Yeah."

            "How long have you been dating?"

            Helga's eyes narrowed even more. "Shouldn't you know since I've told you about him so much?" she snapped.

            "Hey! Don't talk like that to your mother, little lady," Bob barked at her.

            She glared at him for a few seconds, then turned back to Miriam. "I dunno, a couple of days."

            "Well, I am glad you found yourself a good boy from a good family instead of that orphan boy you are always hanging around. Alfred, is that his name?"

            "Arnold," she hissed as she tightened her grip on the glass.

            "Yeah, Arnie."

            "So, dear, when did you get that beautiful hair cut?" her mom asked.

            "Today since I had long hair last night." She waited to see if they would say anything about her being gone all night, but they said nothing.

            "And that outfit is so cute! Did you buy it today too?"

            "Yeah," she lied. She was not in the mood to explain the whole Rhonda plan to her parents.

            "Don't you think her outfit and haircut is cute, Bob?"

            "Yeah, it makes her look even more like Olga," he said loudly as he changed the television channel.

            Helga felt like she had just been slapped. Suddenly all she wanted to do was get out of the new clothes. She felt her hands begin to shake with anger. ""Can I please be excused. I'm very tired and I just want to go to bed."

            "Of course, dear. Good Night, honey," Miriam said cheerfully.

            "Yeah, Good Night, Olga."

            "Helga, Dad. I'm Helga."

            "Right. Night, Olga," he said without even looking at her.

            Helga did not correct him. She ran straight to the upstairs bathroom and looked at her reflection. She suddenly realized what had been bothering her all day. She looked like Olga. Not exactly, but close enough to make her sick. Helga's eyes filled up with tears.  She grabbed the porcelain soap dish and threw it across the bathroom as hard as she could. It broke into thousands of tiny fragments. Helga slid to the floor and cried.

            After a few minutes, she stood up and wiped her eyes. "I have to get out." She grabbed her purse from her room and ran downstairs. As she started the car there was only one person she knew could help her right now, and she sped off towards his house under the starry night sky.

A/N: Wow, this chapter was longer then expected. Oh well. I hope you liked it because it took me a long time to write it (I don't know why but I developed a bit of writer's block. Blah.) The good news is that I have started chapter 12 already, so stay tuned. The bad news is that my computer is going away tomorrow because it has problems (I can't get to my email and it is pissing me off!) Anyways, I will be writing freehand so that I can just type it up when my computer returns to me, which shouldn't take too long. Next chapter is "Reconstructing Helga." Later days.


	12. Reconstructing Helga

A/N: Haha! I am back and that's a good thing. Anyways, I am busy writing and reading my stupid homework (I like to read and I wouldn't mind it, except maybe King Leer because I don't really like Shakespeare, but we have to write in a reading log and that takes forever) and I have a much better idea of how this story is going to go. So, without further adieu, here is Chapter 12.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold!, but in a few hours I will own a copy of _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix._

Where to Begin

Chapter 12 – Reconstructing Helga

            Tap. Tap. Tap.

            Arnold opened one sleepy eye and groaned. He had been happily snoozing over one of the books before someone woke him up. He opened the window and peered down. "Helga, why, may I ask, are you on my fire escape at," he looked at his watch, "two thirty in the morning?"

            She smiled slightly. "I wanted to talk to you, and it is only one thirty."

            "Oh." Arnold blinked a few times to focus his eyes as he helped her into his room. "Why didn't you use the front door?"

            "Arnold, do you really want me to wake your whole house up with the door bell? Someone else would have heard it before you, and I am sure they would have been every interested to know why a pretty young girl was wanting to see you at one thirty in the morning."

            "I see your point." He flopped down on his bed. "What did you want to talk about?"

            She did not say anything as she pulled his desk chair over towards the bed and sat down. Even in the dim light Arnold could see her red-rimmed eyes. "Helga, what's wrong?"

            "Nothing," she said quietly.

            "Helga, you don't wake people up and crawling up their fire escape in a mini skirt in ten degree weather to talk about nothing."

            "That's the problem," she said flatly.

            "What's the problem? The weather? Helga, it's always like this this time of year."

            "No, Arnoldo." She shifted slightly. "These stupid clothes."

            "So? Just wear your old clothes."

            "I can't."

            "Why not?"

            "Because, Arnold, Rhonda spent a lot of money buying them for me."

            "Since when do you care about that?"

            Helga glared at him. "Arnold, I know that I am not the nicest person and can be a brat, but I have never been that ungrateful." She stood up and looked up at the skylight. "And everyone thinks I look great."

            "You do, but you looked great before."

            "Some help you are."

            "What do you want me to say?"

            "I don't know. I was okay with it. I was actually started to like my new look." She pulled her hair slightly. "But then the party and at home–"

            "What happened at the party?" Arnold interrupted.

            "Uh, Jeff Hershey kinda forced himself on me," she said slowly.

            "What?" Arnold cried as he jumped up. He ran over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "What happened? Are you okay? I swear if he did anything to you I'll–"

            She stared up at him, momentarily in awe of his protection of her. They locked eyes for a few seconds. Helga had forgotten how green they were. . . "Uh, Jake and I took care of it. It's no big deal," she said dropping her gaze.

            "Oh," Arnold blushed as he realized he was still holding on to her. He sat back down. "That's good then," he said dumbly.

            "Yeah, but it was because of these clothes. And then at home," she sighed. "At home all Mom and Dad could say was how much I now look like Olga." She sat back down.

            Arnold said nothing and they sat in silence. He did not know what to say. He never felt like he could ever give her good advise in these situations since he did not have any siblings.

            "I just don't feel like myself. I feel like Rhonda's little Barbie doll. Did you know she didn't even do this for me? She only did it so I could beat Lila."

            "Helga, how you look doesn't change how you act. You are still the one and only Helga G. Pataki. It's just now your world-be-damned attitude is taking over the world in heels and a mini skirt." She smiled slightly. "See, you're smiling already."

            "But it doesn't seem like I am me anymore. I have singing solos and dancing and people want to be me and for God's sake, Big Bob and Miriam are actually talking to me about me. This doesn't normally happen."

            "Helga, you have always been able to dance and sing. People have always wanted to be like you. As for your parents, it's about time they started really seeing who you are an they will."

            "That's only because I look like Olga."

            "Helga, she's your sister. Most likely there will be some resemblance between you two, and you can used that to show your parents how different you are from her, and maybe they will finally see that you are far more amazing, talented, and beautiful then Olga ever was or will be."

            "You really think so?" she asked.

            Arnold took in everything he had just said and blushed. "Of course."

            "And I can show everyone else that I am so much more then what meets the eye. A new game plan for taking over the world." She smiled widely. "Thanks Arnold. You're the best," she said as she hugged him. 

            "Anytime," he said, and he could not help but take everything in, how she smelled so sweet and how she felt so perfect in his arms. She pulled away and climbed back out the window and onto the fire escape. He walked over to say good-bye. She smirked at him.

            "What?"

            "You really think I'm beautiful, Football Head?"

            "Uh. . ."

            "You must be pretty lucky to have beautiful blondes climb your fire escape to see you in the middle of the night."

            He shrugged. "It would be better if the beautiful blonde didn't have a boyfriend."

            Helga stared wide-eyed at him. Arnold could kill himself for saying something so stupid, even if it was true. "And, of course, if she wasn't you."

            She glared at him and he knew he was okay, at least for now. "See you, Arnoldo," she called as she climbed down.

            "Good night, Helga," he said as he watched her drive away. "Shit," he cursed softly as he collapsed on his bed. Why, why does she have to have a boyfriend? he pleaded as he drifted to sleep. And why, why does it have to be Jake Richardson?

  ¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            Arnold rolled over and stared at the skylight. He could tell the sun was shining, but a layer of snow covered the windows, blocking the clear view. He rolled back over and buried his face in the pillow. "What time is it?" he asked aloud. All he wanted to do was sleep and not move for a week.

            "1:30."

            Arnold snapped up and stared across the room. He had not expected a response to his question since he thought he was alone. Helga was sitting at his computer typing away, working on their project. "Well, actually it's 1:32, but I figured you would just want a ball park figure this early in the morning. Oops, excuse me, this early in your day."

            He propped himself on his elbows. "How long have you been here?"

            "A little more than an hour. I came after work. I brought you some breakfast, but you slept so long I had to warm it up again, though I had to throw out the coffee I got you. I don't think that would have worked to well when reheating. I got you orange juice instead."

            "Thanks." Arnold walked over and picked up one of the doughnuts. "How long ago did you warm these up?"

            She shrugged. "About five minutes ago. You grandpa kept complaining about how kids these days never wake up, and your grandma invited me for tea."

            Arnold smiled. There was no one in the world like his grandparents. He took a sip of the orange juice. "How did you know my password?"

            "Huh?"

            "How did you know my password to use my computer?"

            "Please, Arnold, I would hardly call your last name a secure password."

            He shrugged. "A lot of people don't know it."

            It was her turn to shrug. "Anyways," she started loudly, "If you are done stuffing your face, I could use your help. I can't do this on my own."

            Arnold stretched and yawned. "Whatever you say, Helga," he mumbled as he grabbed supplies for the poster board they were using as a visual.

            "Damn right, Football Head, whatever I say." She kicked him lightly.

            _Some things never change_, he thought as he lied down on the floor and began to work.

  ¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            "I cannot believe this stupid thing took us this long," Helga moaned as she fell backwards onto Arnold's couch.

            "Well, maybe if we had worked on it during the week we wouldn't have had to spend an entire Sunday on it," he snapped back. It was six o'clock, and he was tired from a day of homework. On top of that, Helga and Stinky had again beaten him and Gerald. He was really getting tired of losing every week. She glared at him, but he was too tired to fight with her. "Well, at least it's over now."

            "Yeah." She sat up. "I should probably go home."

            "Are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner?"

            Helga shook her head. "Naw, but I do feel bad not having tea with your grandma. She seemed really anxious to talk to Eleanor Roosevelt again, but we had to go to the game."

            "Don't worry about it." He helped her gather her stuff together. "I'll see you tomorrow."

            She nodded. "After all, tomorrow is another day." She laughed as he made a face. "C'mon, Arnold, I know deep down you really loved _Gone with the Wind._"

            "The only good thing about it was that it took four history classes to watch it."

            "Yeah, it was kinda weird how Mr. Phegley taught us the Civil War though movies and the history channel specials."

            Arnold walked her to her car. "You feeling better?"

            "Yeah. At least I don't think I'll have another emotional breakdown for a while."

            He wanted her leave and hoped she would really be okay. She had been through enough already.

A/N: It's a bit on the dumb side and rather short, but the next chapters will be better, I promise, because there will be more cute A + H moments, though it won't be as mush as you all want. Sorry, but that comes later. Anyways, next chapter is "Back to the Drawing Board," and I have some of it done already, but it won't be up for at least a week because I have to finish writing it (and it's going to be longer) and Harry Potter comes out tomorrow so I have to give myself about two days to read it. So, happy first day of summer tomorrow and later days.


	13. Back to the Drawing Board

A/N: Well, after waiting for two and a half years, I have finally read _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_, and, I admit it, I cried. Now life moves on, and so does the story, but first I would like to gripe about something (Festivous in June, it is time to air my grievances). Why, if the movie _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ (which is my favorite book of the first four, I am still not sure how I feel about the fifth book. I need to give it time to sink in and read it over) is done, why do we have to wait until next June?! (Actually, I do know the answer, at least I think I do, and it is really gay. I am pisspleased at Warner Brothers, and they better resign the actors. I don't want them to recast.) I love having it in November because my b-day's then and I am so excited for it, the movie, Christmas, Christmas Break, New Years, the whole thing. But I suppose having it in June is another reason for me too not only look forward to the end of school, but also this time next year I will be a senior. Uh, that's scary. Oh well, I am done ranting and here is Chapter 13, inspired by the band Mest's song, "Back to the Drawing Board," and I will be seeing them in concert at the Vans Warp Tour tomorrow. Hella hella cool!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold!, but I am the proud owner of _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_. If you haven't read it or any of the other books, go out and get you one (of course, after you read this chapter).  

Where to Begin

Chapter 13 – Back to the Drawling Board

            "You should have seen us. I am telling you, we were the best."

            Arnold rolled his eyes as Helga bragged to Gerald and Phoebe about their presentation. Arnold picked at his lunch as Helga continued. He could not help but notice a lot of guys were staring at her. She, however, was not aware of how much her presence in the cafeteria mattered to the male population of West Hillwood High.

            "Right, Arnold?"

            "Huh? Oh, right."

            She gave him a weird look, but continued on without much concern for his current mood. "Yep, we are sure to get an A thanks to my hard work."

            "Excuse me? _Your_ hard work? Helga, you spent a day on the project. I had been looking up information and making notes and working on the power point all week," he said darkly.

            "No," she hissed. "Two days. I worked a bit on Saturday," she said as she ate a carrot stick.

            "When did you find time to work on it on Saturday?"

            "I had time."

            "When? You were at my house the entire morning before you went to basketball practice and pageant practice. Then we went shopping, then the basketball game, then you went to Alexis's party, then you talked to your parents, then you came over to my house."

            "Wait, why was Helga at your house yesterday before her b-ball practice?" Gerald asked, suddenly very interested in their argument.

            "Don't ask," was all Arnold said.

            "I worked on it when I got home," Helga said matter-of-factly, eating another carrot stick.

            "Didn't you have to work from six to twelve yesterday morning?"

            "Yeah."

            "But it was like two thirty when you left my house."

            "So I didn't sleep," Helga said, and neither noticed Phoebe's and Gerald's raised eyebrows.

            "You didn't sleep? Helga, you were exhausted Friday. Don't you think you should do something about that?"

            "Arnold, don't act like you are my mother."

            "Well, somebody needs to!"

            "What were you doing at his house at two thirty in the morning?" Gerald asked, this time a little more demanding.

            "Don't ask!" they snapped. Gerald and Phoebe exchanged glances.

            Arnold crossed his arms. "See, it was Sunday morning, not Saturday night."

            "It was too Saturday night, at least for non-dorks who stay out past midnight, unlike you."

            "I am not a dork. Technically it was Sunday morning, so technically you only spent one day on it."

            Helga just growled at him and looked as if she was seconds from strangling him.

            "Jeez, you two sound like an old married couple," Gerald said in a very annoyed voice as he dipped a French fry in his ketchup dish.

            "Do not!" they cried in unison. They exchanged looks and blushed.

            "Uh, Helga, how was the game yesterday?" Phoebe asked, trying to change the subject.

            Helga smirked as Arnold and Gerald suddenly became very interested in their food. "Why don't you ask Football Head or Hair Boy?"

            "What happened?"

            "Me and Stinky wiped the pavement with these two guys. Isn't that right, boys?" Her smile brightened.

            "It was snowing. Arnold and I don't play well when it is snowing," Gerald said as he poked his burger.

            "Right. You can't play when it's snowing, or raining, or sunny, or partly cloudy, or –" she began counting her fingers.

            "Yeah, yeah, we know. We suck," Gerald interrupted.

            "I wouldn't say that. It's too mean," she said, winking at Gerald. "And we all know that I am not mean."

            Arnold rolled his eyes, and Gerald snorted loudly.

            She grabbed her last carrot stick. "No, you are just plain bad."

            "Thanks, Helga," Arnold said blandly. He flicked a grape at her.

            "Oh, boy, you don't even want to start that." She got her ammo ready with a large spoonful of chocolate pudding aimed directly at Arnold's favorite white t-shirt.

            "Ready when you are." He grabbed Gerald's ketchup.

            "Uh, Helga, have you decided what you are going to sing for the pageant?" Phoebe asked slowly.

            "Not now, Pheebs. I'm busy." Helga and Arnold glared at each other, unmoving, for a minute. They suddenly cracked up and laughed a good deal, leaving Phoebe and Gerald very confused, but, then again, they were used to it by now.

            "What were you saying?" Helga asked between gasps.

            "Have you decided on a song to sing for the pageant?" she asked again.

            Helga's face fell. "Aw, crap. I was supposed to have that picked by today."

            "We can help you, Helga," Phoebe said joyfully. Gerald groaned loudly, and Phoebe kicked him underneath the table. "What do you have in mind?"

            "Nothin'. I don't have a clue," she said as she flicked the grape back at Arnold. He glared at her.

            "Well, what song do you like to sing? What do you want to listen to right now?"

            Helga raised an eyebrow and smiled sweetly. Too sweetly. "Well, actually, I would like to sing a song, and I am going to dedicate it to one of the most inspiring people in my life, Arnold." She hugged him tightly, and Arnold prayed for a quick death, because he had a feeling he would die of embarrassment shortly. "Another day is going by. I'm thinking about you all the time, but you're out there, and I'm here waiting. And I wrote this letter in my head cause so many things were left unsaid. But now you're gone, and I can't think straight. This could be the one last chance to make you understand. And I just can't let you leave me once again. I'd do anything just to hold you in my arms, to try to make you laugh. Somehow I can't put you in the past. I'd do anything, just to fall asleep with you. Will you remember me? Cause I know I won't forget you."

            Helga, Gerald, and Phoebe burst out laughing as she stopped serenading him, and Arnold managed to force himself to laugh. It was funny, but it hit _way_ to close to home.

            "Maybe something else," Phoebe said after she stopped laughing.

            Helga threw her hands in the air. "Jeremiah was a bullfrog."

            "Was a good friend of mine," Phoebe finished.

            "I never understood a single word he said," Helga sang a little louder.

            "But I helped him drink his wine."

            "And he had some mighty fine wine," they sang together. "Singin' joy to the world, to all the boys and girls. Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea. Joy to you and me."

            Arnold and Gerald watched the two giggle uncontrollably. They watched in horror as the rest of the lunchroom turned to their table to see what Helga would sing next. She stood up on her chair and used her fork as a microphone. Arnold had never seen Helga be this outgoing in front of such a large group of her peers. 

            "Just because I walk like Obi-Wan Kenobi, you people talk, but you don't even know me. But that's all right, because I get down with GC, so I walk on and listen to their CD. Some people laugh, they do it just to spite me, behind my back, they don't know what I see. But I don't care what they say. I don't need them any way. I just go about my way, but anyway. You go out on Friday night, I'll stay in but that's all right cause I have found a clique to call my own. In crowd, out crowd, I don't care. Your crowd, my crowd, we can't share cause I have found a clique to call my own."

            To his surprise, the whole cafeteria went crazy. Helga, just as surprised, wasted no time in pleasing her audience as she quickly changed songs. "I don't want to sit next to you. I can't believe you called me so soon. Don't try to justify what you did to me. Your just one of those troubled boys, using me for everything but love. Don't make excuses for what you did to me. You kissed me, then dissed me, but now you say you miss me, and you used me, confused me, but you don't want to lose me. Don't talk to me, don't acknowledge me anymore, I'm just another score."

            It seemed everyone was clapping as the bell rang, and everyone went back to class. "Thank you, thank you. You are a beautiful audience!" Helga was not finished, and she and Phoebe were singing at the top of their lungs, "I'm bouncin' off the walls again. Whoa. I'm looking like a fool again. Whoa. Threw away my reputation, one more song for the radio station!"

            "Well, that was an interesting lunch, don't cha think?" Gerald asked as he threw his trash away.

            "That's one way of putting it," Arnold said.

            "Later," Gerald said as he went in the opposite direction. Arnold walked to class, his brain feeling a lot like mush. It all seemed like too much to take in. However, he had to admit it was entertaining.

            A few minutes later, Arnold was gloomily sitting in the drawing room. He was behind in his projects due to using two class periods the week before to study for his trigonometry and Chemistry II tests. As a result, he had to use today's study hall to catch up. It was not that he did not like to draw; he actually loved it. The problem lied in his teacher, Mrs. Douglas.

            Mrs. Douglas was, for lack of a better term, completely crazy. Every student in the school knew why (let's just say she greatly enjoyed the seventies and eighties and was now without many of her brain cells) and prayed they got her because she hardly knew what was going on and was a very easy teacher. Arnold, on the other hand, thoroughly disliked her because she, for some reason unknown to him, had taken a great liking to him and suffocated him with attention during class on a regular basis. She also seemed to think he was the most talented student she had, which though Arnold was rather good, there were many others who were far more talented than him and hated him because he got more attention. Needless to say, Arnold had few friends in his normal class, and by the looks he was getting he had even fewer in here.

            Arnold rolled his eyes and spun a coin on his desk. He had chosen one that was far away from Mrs. Douglas and the rest of the students. His head throbbed and he could not stop thinking about what had happened Saturday night . . . 

            "Arnold? Arnold? Oh good, you are in there," Mrs. Douglas said as Arnold finally abandoned his current thoughts and looked up at her. Her gray eyes looked like dusty marbles behind her thin silver glasses.  She placed a large piece of paper, several different pencils with different leads, a pencil sharpener, and a kneaded eraser in front of him. He blushed deeply as he received a fresh dose of death glares from students who had not been delivered their supplies, which was everyone else. "You're doing the same as the rest of the class." She lowered her voice. "And by that I purely mean the same assignment. Your skills are far superior to theirs."

            "Er, thanks," he muttered. Normally the teacher would leave, but she remained where she was, her eyes anxiously awaiting Arnold's first line on the paper. "Uh, Mrs. Douglas, I was wondering if I could work _alone_ so that I can concentrate more and –"

            "Create an even more amazing masterpiece," she said, her voice rising towards the end. A noise escaped her, and Arnold wondered if she was going to burst into tears right then and there. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that?"  She shook her head violently. Arnold, who would be worried if it was anyone else, watched the whole thing with a bored expression. "I'll leave you to your work." She stared at him for a while, and he was afraid that she might hug him. She finally walked away, her thin hand covering her mouth to stifle her sobs.

            Arnold sighed and stared at the blank sheet in front of him. The assignment was simple: draw a face, any face that came to mind, and draw it in proportion, meaning the eyes were in the middle of the skull, the ears started in line with the eyes, etc. He picked up a pencil and drew an outline of the head and put the pencil back down. He was not in the mood to do this, and he was amazed to see how grumpy he was acting when just a few moments ago he was laughing with Helga . . .

            He picked up the pencil again and began to draw furiously, but he was not paying attention to the drawing. His thoughts were elsewhere: the game tomorrow against their biggest rival, East Hillwood High, how he could raise his chemistry grade form the current C to a B, more effective routes to take between classes to avoid Lila, and Rhonda for that matter.

            Eventually his thoughts settled on a subject that he was trying not to think about. Ever since he admitted to himself that he had feelings for Helga he had been trying desperately to think about her as little as possible, but that task was made even more difficult by the weekend's events and their project. She was a far too big part of his life for him not to dwell on her. And at the moment she seemed to need him more than ever.

            He remembered their conversation about Jeff on Saturday night. He had heard people talking about it in the hallways and who had naturally evolved the story so that Jeff had been arrested for attempting to rape Helga. Of course, he had not been hulled off until after his trip to the ER to repair his massive head injury from Jake hitting him in the head several times with a piano bench. Speaking of Jake, what kind of a guy lets this happen? If Helga was his girlfriend he would never let her out of his sight. . .

            Arnold started to draw a pair of wide, dark eyes as he allowed himself to linger on such a happy thought, Helga as his girlfriend. It was funny, in a not very funny way, for the longest time he only thought Lila would be a perfect fit for him, though he had had many other crushes over the years (though Lila might qualify as an obsession. He pushed that out of his head). But the more he thought about it, Helga just seemed right for him. He could not put his finger on just why, but it seemed natural, Arnold and Helga, Helga and Arnold . . .

            He finished the small nose and the thin, clean eyebrows and sketched the ears, which were slightly smaller than one would expect, not that it mattered much since the chin length hair would cover it. Jake probably loved Helga's new hairstyle and new look. He would never try to really get to know her and see how amazing and beautiful she was on the inside, far more than on the outside, and that was saying something. No, Jake just to get in Helga's pants. Jake and Helga, Helga and Jake . . . it sounded nowhere near as right as Arnold and Helga, Helga and Arnold . . .

            He drew the full lips. _Yeah, it should be Helga and me, after all I was her first kiss_, he thought, remembering the play long, long ago. At least I am pretty sure I was. Wow, that was a long time ago . . . I am not implying that everyone will end up with their first kiss, but that's still on up on Jake . . . yes, Helga and Arnold, his perfect Helga . . .

            "My stars, Arnold, this is amazing!"

            "Wha –" Arnold snapped out of his dream-like state. Mrs. Douglas was leaning over his shoulder. He followed her gaze, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. He was amazed at his drawing; it was easily the best thing he had ever done, but it terrified him at the same time. He was staring at the beautiful face of Helga G. Pataki. He was speechless from shock. You dumbass! he shouted in his head. How could you have drawn her! "Oh – oh, it really isn't, it's, I'm not done!" he cried as she pulled it away from him to get a better look.

            "I have never seen anything like this. It looks like a photograph. Every line, the shading, it's perfect."

            Her words were beginning to catch attention. "R-really, I'm not done," he stammered as he tried to grab it. She stepped away from him, and he tumbled over his feet and collided with the sink. "Ow."

            "Nonsense. There is nothing left you could possibly do." She squinted. "This girl looks familiar."

            The blood drained from his face. "Please, there is something I have to fix!" He grabbed the other end of the picture.

            "Arnold, what has gotten in to you?" she asked wide-eyed, but her grip remained firm. Most of the class was staring at them, and a few had moved to get a peek at the drawing.

            "I am begging you, _give me the picture!_"

            "Arnold, let go now."

            "No! I _need_ that picture!"

            "Arnold, I order you to release your – "

            "No," he half hissed, half growled. She slid slightly, but her hold was stronger than ever.  Out of pure frustration and madness, Arnold stepped on her toe and let go. She stumbled backwards, and the picture flew and landed on the counter. He watched as her arm bumped into a container of green paint with a top that had not been tightened enough.

            The bell ran shrilly, and the students rushed out of the classroom, most likely to tell everyone how Arnold went crazy and attacked Mrs. Douglass. Arnold had, however, managed to catch her before she hit the floor.

            "Oh, Arnold, thank you. I can be so clumsy, tripping over my own feet." Their eyes moved to the picture, which as now dowsed in acrylic paint. It took every ounce of self-restraint to hold him back from praising the heavens. Mrs. Douglas, however, felt differently. "Oh, Arnold, I am so sorry! Look what I did! I am such a klutz. My mother – "

            "It's okay," he said.

            "But that was _amazing _Arnold, and I, I – "

            "It's really okay. I can draw another one at home."

            "Oh, Arnold, I can't tell you how sorry I am." She looked terribly close to tears, and Arnold felt a ping of guilt. "I – I have to go. Can you clean that up? I just have to go. I'll see you later, Arnold. I have to go."

            Arnold watched her leave and quickly cleaned up. He would be late for his next class, but he could care less. Arnold stared at the picture, now stained with green, and let out a long sigh. He rolled up the picture, along with a few sheets of clean white paper, and walked to his next class, hoping he could keep his head on straight.

  ¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            "This is ridiculous, Arnold! Why do I have to drive you over there?"

            "Because you want to help your best friend out." Gerald shot him a nasty look. "And because I don't have my own car."

            "Right. So that makes me your personal chauffeur?"

            "Relax, will ya? It won't take that long." Arnold watched the buildings go by as Gerald sped through town, cursing softly as he got caught in a bit traffic. The boys were tired and on edge because of their extra long and strenuous basketball practice. The team spent most of the time yelling at each other, and at this point, Arnold had a bad feeling they were going to get slaughtered tomorrow. Because of the longer practice, Arnold could not ride to the Omni with Helga, plus he only had to be there for a short time to make sure things were going okay, and that Josh had not blown the whole theater up.

            They walked to the main stage in silence, but it was not because of their tempers. Arnold was just tired, and Gerald was amazed by the whole place. Arnold found Josh messing with the lighting. Adam D and Kathryn were putting the finishing touches on the set.

            "Looks like we are ahead of schedule," Arnold said as he looked around.

            "Uh-huh," Josh replied as he dimmed the lights slightly.

            "Where's everyone else?"

            "Uh, working on organizing tickets sales. I let Ryne be in charge of that. I wanted no part of it. Neither did Adam, and I told Kathryn to help us because if she was with the rest, some heads would be rolling."

            "I am sure other body parts would be too. Hey, Arnold," she said as she stood beside him. "What's with the dim-wit?" she asked, gesturing towards Gerald who was still staring with his mouth open.

            He ignored her. "You did all this?" he asked the boys.

            "Yeah. You know, it's not to hard when you have more than half a brain," she snapped.

            Gerald glared at her, but Josh spoke before he came up with a comeback. "Don't mind her, she just has permanent PMS."

            She instantly flipped him off, and she dragged Adam with her to see what the rest of the crew were managing without her. Josh shook his head. "She's hotter than hell, but I think she is the devil's daughter. It certainly would explain a lot." He switched the house lights on. "I think everything's good. I'll go see what everyone is fighting about. Arnold, you can go. Save yourself while you can."

            "Thanks. I'll see you Wednesday."

            "What? Oh, right, your game is tomorrow." He shook his head. "You guys better win. East Hillwood killed us."

            Gerald nodded. "Don't worry, we'll win. We hammered you guys this year, so it should be about even, right."

            Josh smiled. "Yeah, but just wait until next year."

            "We'll beat you by even more," Arnold said, a smile creeping on his lips.

            Josh rolled his eyes. "Later," he said as he left. 

            Gerald turned to Arnold. "Can we go now?"

            "Done gaping at the set?"

            His eyes narrowed slightly. "Don't say gaping. Say staring like a normal person. God, you sound like Helga and Phoebe, using big words just because you can."

            "Gerald, gaping isn't a big word."

            "You know what I mean. Talk like a normal person."

            Arnold walked to off the stage and into the hallway with all the practice studios. Gerald's mood was bad again, and Arnold did not feel like dealing with it. They were both tired, frustrated, and nervous about the game tomorrow night.

            "What is that?" Gerald suddenly asked.

            "Huh?" Arnold stopped beside Gerald. "What's what?"

            "That voice?" He turned around and walked back down the hallway. Arnold followed him, and as they got closer, he heard it too. It was a soulful, elegant voice that reminded him of velvet for some reason. It was so smooth.

            Gerald stopped outside the door. "Do you hear that? Pure soul." He opened the door slightly, and the voice rang out into the hallway.

            "Then he asked when he walked my way. I hoped sweet things he'd say. Instead he smiled kinda nice as he held my hand kinda tight. But when the love light starts shining through his eyes, made me realize how he felt inside and when he placed a kiss upon my face then I knew, oh then I knew, that he won my heart."

            They opened the door, since whomever the blonde girl was she would know Arnold, so it would not be that weird. She continued singing, and Arnold and Gerald continued to be amazed. This girl had talent. Arnold looked at the mirror and saw who it was at the same time she sensed that some one was watching. She stared at him for a moment.

            "Hey, Helga," Arnold said simply. She exploded.

            "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you had practice." She glared at Gerald. "What's he doing here?"

            "Nice to see you too, Helga," Gerald muttered crossing his arms.

            "We, uh, heard you singing and wanted to see who it was."

            Her face fell. "Don't tell me I was that bad. I told Phoebe I should have picked something else. Why did I think I could sing a Diana Ross song?"

            "And the Supremes," Arnold said automatically.

            "Helga, are you deaf? C'mon, you know you are good," Gerald snapped at her.

            "But – "

            "Case closed, end of story. Can we go now?" he asked Arnold.

            "Yes. Go. Now. Leave," she said coldly as she flipped through the sheet music.

            "That's what you say after we assure you that you are good? Jeez."

            "I just don't want you to hear me sing," she said, blushing.

            Gerald's jaw dropped. "You have got to be the most emotionally messed up person, I swear. You were standing on a chair at lunch today singing to the entire cafeteria, and now you are self-conscious? In front of us?"

            "This is serious."

            Gerald groaned loudly. "You talk to her. I am going out to the car. And hurry up," he said to Arnold, and he left mumbling about how crazy Helga was.

            "He makes a good point, you know."

            She stared at Arnold. "About what?"

            "If you can't sing in front of us, how do you expect to sing for the judges and for the entire audience?"

            "Well, if I can't do the first I won't have to worry about the second." Arnold glared at her. "I don't really care what they think about me." She avoided his eyes.

            Arnold stared at her for a while. He did not realize how much his opinion mattered to her. Or was it his and Gerald's? "You care that much about what we think of you?"

            "Well, not Phoebe and Gerald so much. I mean, I do, but Phoebe still rarely gives me a straight answer about what she thinks of me, and Gerald could care less most of the time." She began picking at her nails.

            _It's just me_, he thought, and a million more thoughts entered his head. He stared at her as she finally looked at him, staring into those wide, dark eyes. For what seemed like an eternity, they stood there, staring intently into each other's eyes, and he briefly thought of telling her how he really felt. _Maybe she feels the same way_, he thought_. Maybe it's me she really cares for_. He tried to form words, to say something to those pleading eyes, waiting for him to give her reassurance, and maybe something more. "You'll do fine," he said finally in a voice that sounded nothing like his own.

            He turned away from her. He did not want to see her reaction, but unfortunately he turned towards the mirror, and he saw he hurt face. "You're right. I am sure I'll do fine. I don't know why I'm worrying so much about it," she said, and her face became emotionless, not letting him see anymore of the pain she really felt.

            How many times had he seen that look? _Too many_, he thought sadly. " I mean, if you want me to leave when you are on stage, I will if you want me to," he stammered, trying to help her, but it was too late. She was done.

            "That's all right, Arnold. Look, I have to practice, and Gerald will blow a fuse if you don't get out there soon."

            "Yeah," he said slowly. "Look, Helga, if you need anything, just – "

            "I'm fine, Arnold," she snapped. "Really, I'm fine." She played her trump card to get him to leave. "It's probably just PMS since I should be starting my period soon."

            "Ugh," he grumbled. That was the second time in the last thirty minutes he had heard PMS. It was all too much. "All right. All right. I get it. I'm leaving. See you tomorrow."

            "Yeah," she said without any feeling as she turned away.

            He looked at her once more before he left. He was quiet on the way home, not answering Gerald when he asked about Helga. _Why didn't I just tell her?_ he thought desperately_. Even if I didn't tell her _that,_ I at least could have said something else. Now she's pissed._ He looked up at the sky and wished for life to be more uncomplicated.

            Arnold was still thinking about it as he tried to do his art homework. First he tried to play his music so loud that it would block out all his thoughts, but that did not work. Bowling for Soup, Helga's favorite band, was in the CD player, and it only made him think about her anymore. He turned it off and tried the television. He started watching Sportscenter, but women's basketball highlights were on. He flipped the station, but it was no use. He turned it off and threw the remote across the room. "Damn it, she's everywhere!" The blank piece of paper caught his eye. He growled. "She is not the only thing in my head." He sat down and began to draw. After about five minutes, it was clear whom he was drawing. He crumbled up the paper and threw it over his shoulder. Arnold tried to free his mind and just draw what came to his mind, but every picture looked the same.

            "Damn it," he said again, and he grabbed his latest _Sports Illustrated_. He looked through it to find the manliest looking guy in the magazine. He found a picture of a Russian hockey player who was not the nicest looking guy in the world, and he also looked nothing like Helga. It was cheating, but Arnold did not care. He had to draw something other than her.

            After an hour of self-restraint and intense concentration, he was done, and his drawing looked like the hockey player, except there seemed to be something of Helga there. He sighed. "It's no use." He packed everything away and flopped on his bed, staring at the sky and forgetting about the rest of his homework. He would do it sometime during the day tomorrow. Arnold closed his eyes, but all he could see was her face. She looked so hurt. "And I did it to her." It was a numbing thought. Helga was the last person on earth that he wanted to hurt. The look on her face broke his heart. He could have stood her yelling at him, but she looked at him like she did when her parents forgot about her or left her for Olga. He did that to her. He made her feel that pain.

            He spent the whole night trying to sleep, but it never came. All he could think about was her face, those pleading eyes that seemed to want him to tell her how much he cared about her because she felt that way too . . . . As the sun rose, he made up his mind. He would show her just how much he cared, and when she was ready to admit she cared too, he would be right there waiting for her.

A/N: _Back to the drawing board with the words you've heard a million times before. In your head, I am dead. _It was the attack of the italicized words, I tell you. And the ellipsis. Oh well. Uh, um, yeah. This chapter ended differently than I expected. Hmmm . . . interesting. Next chapter is "Cold Shower Tuesdays." Wow, that will be chapter 14. Only about twenty-six or so to go . . . why do I write so much . . . hmmm, another question for the magic eight ball. I am going to get some sleep because I am acting loopy (that's what happens when I get about four hours of sleep every night). Later days.


	14. Cold Shower Tuesdays

A/N: Back to the lab again. Wow, the concert day was the best day ever. It started out kinda crappy, but then I met Simple Plan. Simple Plan rocks, because not only is their music cool, but they are French Canadian. I like Canada, because they have moose. I like moose. Anyways, I think it is the coolest thing that they are French Canadian punk rockers. I don't know why, I just do. Okay, so after I met Simple Plan, I went and saw Bowling for Soup. If you don't know who they are, go and download some of their songs, or better yet, buy their album. It's so worth it. So I saw BFS and they saw me before the show in my BFS t-shirt my sis made with my name on the back (they were on a little stage, which kicks because I was really close to them. Yea!), so when they started playing "Emily," they were like, "Where's Emily at?" So I started jumping up and down and totally rocking out. "There she is!" And I met them after the show, and they were like "There's Emily. We were wondering when she was coming." So I got my t-shirt signed. I just used a lot of "soes." Is that how you say that? Who cares. Then I saw Simple Plan perform, and then The Ataris. I have so much respect for them now. The Ataris is from Anderson, Indiana, and that rocks. Indy rocks. I loved the Warp Tour. The only bad part was Mest and Bowling for Soup played at the same time so I missed them, but it's cool. If the Warp Tour is coming near you, go. Seriously, you will come back a changed person. It f'n' rocked.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold!, but I am the proud owner of one hell of a sunburn. It looks like I have second-degree burns. Oh well. I have always felt like a tomato, and now I just look like one. Why do I feel like a tomato, you ask. Because I never really feel like I fit in, just like a tomato. Man, that food has one heck of an identity crisis. It never knows if it is a fruit or a vegetable, just like I never know what group I am in at school (I do know I am not a fruit, so don't even start that . . .) Poor tomato. . .never knowing if it is a fruit or a vegetable, but it makes salsa, and salsa rocks.

Haha, that was fun. Enjoy tomatoes. Jaret Von Erich does. He is hott. But he is married. But that's all right, because Chipper Jones is married and I still love him. And he is hott. I love Bowling for Soup. I am taking up a lot of space. Oh well. Here is Chapter 14. It was inspired by a Bowling for Soup song. Buy their album, _Drunk Enough to Dance_, because they rock.

Where to Begin

Chapter 14 – Cold Shower Tuesdays

            "Damn Lila," Arnold muttered as he started jogging to English class. She insisted on telling him all about her day while dragging him with her. This pissed him off for two reasons: one, they sat beside each other in class, so she could have just told him there without hanging on his arm, and two, Arnold had had to go to the bathroom badly and now had a good chance to be tardy because she held him up. "Whew," he breathed as he neared the door, but first his heart broke a little bit. He glared slightly before he finally entered the classroom and slumped into his seat. He thought about what had happened in the last six minutes.

            On the way into the classroom, he ran into (well, almost ran into) Helga and Jake kissing. Arnold was used to seeing this at school; he had been seeing it in his public schools since seventh grade. That did not really bother him. What bothered him was that it was _Helga_, his Helga, though in reality she had never been his. Still, he thought he deserved better than to have to watch Helga and Jake's kissing game, which was to kiss each other as much as possible whenever no one was looking, thus the reason they were making out so close to the start of class. Lila had informed him of their latest pastime earlier and had also mentioned what a great couple they were.

            Helga popped into the room right before the bell rang, a dazed look and a goofy smile on her face. Arnold's eyes narrowed. How could Helga, one of the smartest people he knew and a rather good judge of character, be so blindsided by Jake, who was a Grade-A jerk underneath that thin layer of charm? Arnold growled and pulled out his playbook to distract himself.

            Okay, Oregon west. After I pass, I pick right and . . . . Who does she think she is acting like that? I mean, she should know that in a school this size someone is always watching. He shook his head. Okay, if they don't get open, I cut towards the ball and go to the lane for a lay-up. Okay, Stanford one. I pass it to Gerald, then he fakes a pass to the post . . . . Why does she put up with him? We all know what he's after, heck how many times has she joked about that? But she seems to have forgotten all that. Why? Damn it, Helga deserves someone better. Someone like . . . . Okay, Gerald fakes a pass to the post and Jake cuts . . . . Why am I so jealous? I mean, it's just Helga. I've known her practically my whole life, and she's only the most amazing and intriguing person I know. So what? That doesn't mean anything. Why am I suddenly so attracted to her? I mean, maybe I've felt like this for a long time but . . . . How can she choose him over me? "Oh, this is ridiculous!" he shouted. Everyone looked at him, including Helga.

            "I know how you fell, Arnold," Mr. Spalding said. "How can a verb be a noun? Well, it is a simple thing known as a gerund and . . ."

            Arnold blocked out the rest of the lesson. They had beat gerunds to death in freshman year, so this was just review, not that he was ever crazy about grammar anyways. He laid his head down. Well, I suppose I could get a nap before the big game. Then maybe I can stop thinking about Helga. Helga, the most amazing . . .

  ¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            Arnold pulled his warm-up jersey over his head. His stomach was filled with butterflies, and he was regretting eating that burrito for lunch. What the heck was I thinking? He started putting his shoes on. Gerald was beside him making sure his hair looked nice. "Gerald, I don't think the other team is going to care what your hair looks like."

            "It all goes with the game, by friend."

            "Right." Arnold's thoughts returned to the game ahead against their biggest rival, East Hillwood High, but his thoughts were drowned out by the conversation across the locker room.

            "So, Jake how far have you gotten with that little blonde of yours?"

            "You know I don't kiss and tell."

            "Since when?" another teammate asked.

            Jake laughed. "Well, let's just say I'm working on it."

            "C'mon, just tell us. Third base yet?"

            "Please. Helga's a classy girl, and we've only been dating for a week." He smirked at them. "Give me another two weeks, and I'll have the whole diamond circled."

            The three laughed, and Arnold could feel the anger building up inside him. All he wanted to do was to beat the living daylights out of Jake Richardson. Asshole. Helga would never do anything with him.

            "Relax, man," Gerald said beside him, but his voice sounded like it was far away. "You can't beat up our shooting guard before the big game. Wait until afterwards."

            "I don't think I can last that long."

            "Arnold, Jake would have no problem beating the shit out of you. He's probably been waiting for an excuse to do it."

            "So what? He has no right to say those things."

            "And he's probably just saying them. Helga wouldn't do anything like that with him, you and I both know that. He's just trying to make himself look good."

            Arnold's fists were still clinched. "I don't care," he said through gritted teeth.

            "What would Helga do if you beat Jake to a bloody pulp?"

            His eyes remind slits as he glared at Jake, but he relaxed slightly. Their coach came in and give them the usual pre-game talk, but Arnold's mind was thinking about other things, and it continued there until the buzzer sounded and the game was about to start. His stomach gave a lurch as it hit him how big this game was; both teams had one of the best records in their conference and losing would make it very difficult to win conference. Arnold sat down beside the coach in his usual spot as the game began. His did not go in until two minutes were left in the first half, and West Hillwood High was winning 18-17. He quickly returned to the bench, though, after he took out all his anger by making to quick, stupid fouls. 

            "What the hell are you doing out there, Arnold?" his couch cried as Arnold flung himself back into the chair. "Get your damn head in the game! I need you, and now I can't use you until the second half. You tell me when you are ready to play basketball, and maybe I'll put you back in. You call that a push! He barely touched him!" he yelled as Gerald was called with a foul. Arnold sat mentally cursing himself for letting his emotions get the best of him. It did not happen too often. He watched Jake make a bucket and suddenly had another idea of how to take out all his anger.

  ¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            "Interviews suck butt."

            Helga was on the floor stretching and blowing raspberries. She had just spent the last hour learning how to act during an interview. At the moment she was plotting ideas on how to get that last hour of her life back.

            Callie was lying beside her, staring up at the ceiling with her eyes slightly glazed over. "Mmm-hmmm." She rolled over to stretch her back. It cracked several times.

            Helga flinched. "That's nasty."

            "Mmm-hmmm."

            Helga sighed. "This is beyond dumb. I shouldn't be here."

            "The scholarship, Helga. The scholarship," Callie said as she stretched her arms across her chest.

            "This is getting ridiculous. I am sick of being here. Scholarship or no scholarship, this is taking over my life. Damn it, I'm not a real beauty queen!"

            Callie shrugged, too tired to deal with Helga. Helga felt like kicking something, mainly herself. The entire day she debated about skipping practice and going to Jake and Arnold's game, but she thought she would feel guilty. Instead she felt extremely pissed.

            The next hour crawled by. The practiced the "All that Jazz" and opening performances, and had to stop a million times during each because someone made a dumb mistake. She dug her mails into her palms to prevent her from hitting something. _It's not fair_, she thought angrily. _Lila gets to be at the game, and I am stuck in hell. So what if she's a cheerleader?_ she thought as she stared singing the second verse of "All that Jazz." Lila doesn't know a jump shot from a lay-up.

            "Stop, stop. Helga, you need to enunciate more," Miss Sheltie said to her. "And your movements are a bit jerky."

            "Right, right. Well, my moves are jerky because I am TRYING TO REFRAIN FROM HITTING SOMEONE!" she shouted.

            "Miss Pataki, don't you dare yell at me. I am – "

            "I know, I know, doing me a huge favor by helping me. Well, you know what? I'm giving you a day off." She walked towards the pile of duffle bags and threw a couple aside until she grabbed her own.

            "Miss Pataki, what are you doing?" Samson asked.

            "I am leaving. I have put in enough of my time here to get some time off."

            "Helga, you miss practice all the time for games," Miss Sheltie said, and there was an edge to her words.

            "And that's my fault?" Helga snapped.

            "I'm just saying you need more practice. You all need more practice." Her eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to leave?" she asked slowly.

            "Because I am sick of being here. I should be at my boyfriend's basketball game."

            "Great. You are telling me that you are leaving to meet your boyfriend? Helga, you are one of the last people I would expect this kind of bullshit from. You have got to be kidding me."

            "Well, I'm not."

            "Well, you are not leaving."

            "Yes, I am. I have put in enough time here. We all have."

            "Yes, you have put in a lot of time, but you need to but in more. Helga, have you forgotten that the pageant is in less than two weeks?"

            "I am counting down the hours until this nightmare is over." She sighed. "Look, this is taking its toll on everyone. We are all tired. I'm sure we haven't had the time to concentrate or dedicate as much time to our studies, which is the main point of this thing since it is an _academic_ pageant." Miss Sheltie continued to glare at her. "And as a representative of my school, I feel that it is my duty to be at the biggest basketball game of the season. And it is duty as a girlfriend and a friend to be at not only my boyfriend's biggest game, but also two of my closest friends' biggest game. They need me there, and I need to be there. That's why I want to leave."

            She stared at Helga for a long time. "Fine! Everyone can go. You need a break anyways." She glared at Helga. "You better be ready to work your ass of tomorrow."

            Helga stared back just as coldly. "I wouldn't do anything less."

            Miss Sheltie gave her another long look before leaving. Her assistances left behind her.

            All the girls ran up to Helga and thanked her, especially Mackenzie DiMauro, who went to East Hillwood and was dying to go to the game. Callie thanked her and said she was going straight to bed, passing on Helga's invitation to go to the game. She was about out the door before Samson grabbed her arm. "Miss Pataki, you need to watch what you are doing."

            "I know, but this is really important to me –"

            "I understand, but you are already on her bad side. If you push her too far you will be kicked out of this pageant."

            Helga swallowed hard. Though she hated being here, she would not want all her hard work to go to waste. "I won't have a toe out of line anymore. I promise."

            "You better," he said slowly. "Or you can kiss that scholarship and the chance to outdo your sister good-bye."

            He walked away, leaving Helga with much to think about as she drove to her school. The gym was packed, and the first thing Helga saw was Arnold make a three point shot, making the score 88-87 East Hillwood as the fourth quarter winded down to the final three minutes. She sat down beside Phoebe. "How are we doing?"

            "Oh, Helga, you're finally here. Arnold's brought us back from the brink. We were twenty points down midway through the third quarter, then Arnold came in and lit the place up. He's scored more than twenty points!"

            "Arnold?" Helga sat in disbelief. Arnold has never much of a shooter. He was much more comfortable setting other people up and getting the assist, thus making him a perfect point guard. She watched in amazement as Arnold took the team on his shoulders and controlled the ball as they executed the four-corners play to waste time. The score was tied 93-all, and West Hillwood was planning to take the last shot. However, one of the East Hillwood played fouled Gerald hard, and he made both shots. The same player dribbled past West Hillwood's press and made a quick three, leaving ten seconds on the clock, and West Hillwood down by one.

            Their coach called a time out, and the team huddled together while the crowd screamed with the cheerleaders. "We have time for one shot, and we don't have to rush it. You have plenty of time." He turned to Arnold. "You take the ball down. If you got the shot, take it. You haven't missed all night. Let's go, we got 'em!"

            Arnold went back out onto the court. He was not nervous at all. Everything was working for him. Everything was clicking. They were going to win; he could feel it. They were going to win, and he was going to be the one to win it for them.

            Jake took the ball out of bounds below the East Hillwood basket. Their defense was wanting for them at half-court so they would not make any stupid fouls in the backcourt. Arnold caught the ball and dribbled down the court. Nine seconds, eight seconds, seven seconds. Two defenders tried to trap him, but he spun and got around them. He dribbled towards the lane. Matt, another of Arnold's teammates, was open on the baseline, but the pass was too risky. Plus Arnold could feel the shot. He had it. He knew it. Four seconds, three seconds. At two seconds Arnold pulled up and shot a jumper at the foul line. The ball was halfway down the basket, and he began to celebrate. Everyone did. The West Hillwood students were ready to rush the floor when to their horror, the ball rolled out. Arnold felt his stomach drop, and he sunk to his knees. On the other side of the gym, the students of East Hillwood High stormed the court to congratulate their players. He stared at the basket. The ball was in. It was in! he cried in his head. But it rolled out, and West Hillwood had lost, 96-95.

            Gerald was the first to come over to him. "C'mon, Arnold," he said. "We got to go shake their hands."

            Arnold got up and went down the line, and decided that this was cruel and unusual punishment. He had always thought this post-game ritual was good because it supported good sportsmanship, but now he hated it. He hated everything about this moment. It was in. It was in! In the locker room, Arnold just sat with his head in his hands. The shot replayed in his mind over and over again. _I lost it for us_, he thought_. I lost it for us._

            Coach's speech was short, and basically said that they could not have played a better game and that East Hillwood just simply outplayed them. Arnold did not make eye contact with either his teammates or his coach. He heard Matt say that Arnold should have passed him the ball, but no one wanted to hear it. They did not say anything about the game. Before he left, Gerald told Arnold that if it wasn't for him, they would have gotten killed, but Arnold remained quiet.

            Helga was the only one left in the gym when Arnold finally came out of the locker room. She was sitting in the third row of the bleachers. He climbed up and sat beside her, and they sat in silence as the janitors cleaned the floor.

            "It was in," he said finally.

            "I know."

            "God, it was in." He rubbed his eyes. She waited for him to continue. "I had the shot. I – I saw it, and I was open, and it was in."

            "I know."

            "And then it rolled out. _It rolled out._ It was halfway down the basket, and it rolled out."

            "It wasn't meant to be," she said lamely.

            They sat in silence again. Arnold put his head in his hands. "Why didn't I pass it to Matt?"

            "Because the pass was too risky. Because you were on fire. Because you had the shot, Arnold. You did everything right."

            "And we lost," he said hollowly.

            "Yeah."

            Another long period of silence passed. "I just – I just wanted to be the hero for once. I wanted to win the game for us. I wanted to be the guy that everyone puts on their shoulders . . . . It just wasn't meant to be, I guess."

            "Arnold, if it wasn't for you it wouldn't have ended so close. You were the reason we nearly won. So you missed one shot. Someone else could have made one, and that would have been the difference."

            "But I should have made that shot."

            "And what would you have done differently."

            "Well, nothing, I guess."

            "See, there was nothing you could do. Sometimes life just likes to bite you in the ass like that." He did not say anything. "Arnold, you can't be the hero all the time."

            "And why not?" he snapped.

            "Because it doesn't work that way. No one hits 'em all the time. You just got unlucky. There was nothing you could do about that."

            He suddenly met her gaze, which he had been avoiding. There was something so final in his eyes. It scared her. "I just realized something," he said softly. He dropped his eyes. "You're right, I can't win them all the time, no matter how hard I try and how much it hurts."

            Helga studied him. He was not talking about the game anymore, that was clear, but she could not tell what he was talking about. "Arnold – "

            He smiled slightly. "I'm fine now, Helga. Thanks."

            "Sure," she said slowly, still eyeing him carefully.

            He grinned sheepishly. "Do you think I could get a ride home?"

            "Um, yeah, sure," Helga said, still very confused. At least Arnold was feeling better, but she could not help but wonder what else he was thinking about it that football head of his.

A/N: Short chapter done, short chapter on the way, and it is titled "With or without you" (U2 is awesome, because hey, I still haven't found what I'm looking for. Then again, I don't know what I am looking for). Those are good because I usually update them quicker. Oh, word to the wise, don't hit Italian sausages with a baseball bat. 

Sad bit of news – My hometown and area was recently hit with the biggest flood it has seen in ninety years. It was so bad it was declared a disaster area. Completely horrible. Luckily, my house was not flooded, but a lot of houses in my town were hit hard. We were on the national news, but I would rather have been on it for another reason. Anyways, if you saw anything about the mid-west flooding, that was us, and please keep us in your thoughts and prayers, if you want to, anyways. Thankfully no one died, but it is still terrible. Now as we begin to clean up I can only hope for the best for my neighbors.

Anyways, I'll be back soon, and the reason why my author notes sound so crazy and upbeat is because I wrote them a while ago, before the flooding, incase you were wondering. As always, take care and later days.


	15. With or Without You

A/N: This is up a little quicker, and I hope it is to your liking.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and thank you for your sympathy, thoughts, and prayers for my town. The water has gone down a lot and is off the roads, but clean up has started. It will be a long time before things are back to normal. I thank God every day that my family and my friends and I were okay. Unfortunately not everyone was as lucky as us. I hope and pray that those who lost a lot will be able to rebuild and move on to the future. I guess everything has humbled me a bit, because tragedy hit me personally. Anyways, onto something lighter, I hope that you enjoy the chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold!, and I doubt I ever will. Damn.

Where to Begin

Chapter 15 – With or Without You

Wednesday pasted with little excitement. No one talked about the game because it still amazed everyone that the shot did not fall. Their chances of winning conference all but disappeared, and Gerald did not talk to anyone, not even Phoebe. Jake was so stunned he did not even complain that Arnold took the last shot.

Arnold was back to his normal self, except he kept avoiding eye contact with Helga. She did not ask any questions or talk about the night before; he figured that she thought he had sorted everything out and was fine. Except he was not fine, but his current mood and philosophy was going to have to do for the moment.

"Arnold, how can you be doing homework at a basketball game?" Gerald asked Thursday night at Helga's game. Arnold skipped pageant rehearsals. Helga was probably glad that she was not there as well. She had told him during chemistry that it had been the worst yet, and they still had a week left to go. Like Helga, he could not wait for the pageant to be over.

"When you are getting a C minus in chemistry, and you have a load of other stuff to do, you kinda have to do homework whenever you can," he said dryly. He would be at home if Helga had not begged him to go; that and Harold made Gerald come with him, and Gerald did not want to be alone with the still annoying, wrestling star of West Hillwood Harold Berman.

Gerald just shrugged, and Arnold felt a bit of jealousy. Gerald's schedule was full of easy and blow off classes, with the exception of their English class, but that was a joke in itself. Arnold sighed. He was too tired to have to deal with another emotion and/or petty fight, so he returned to his homework.

"Hey, Arnold. How's it going?"

Arnold looked up to see Stinky sitting down beside him. "Hey," he muttered. Stinky was a good friend, but he really needed to do his homework.

"Whatcha doin' your homework at the game for?"

Arnold started to explain his current predicament, but thought better of it. "I'm not really sure, Stinky. The game's not too exciting, and there's nothing else to do, so I figured what the heck?"

Stinky nodded. "I understand entirely. The girls are killing the other team, as usual. I wonder why I even come anymore."

"Because you like to watch girls play against other girls."

"Oh, yeah." He began to focus on the game, his eyes slightly glazed over.

Arnold again returned to his homework, but was quickly interrupted again.

"Hey, Arnold, have you seen Jake? Coach wanted me to tell him somethin'."

Arnold looked up and again felt the anger inside him rising. Come to think of it, he had not seen Jake here, and it was nearly the half. Why was it that he, the best friend, had been forced here, and the boyfriend did not have to drag his sorry-ass to the game? "No, I haven't seen him."

"Dang. Well, I figured he'd be here on account of being Helga's boyfriend. You would think that he would come here, since his girlfriend is playin'. I know if I had a girlfriend on the basketball game, I would be at every game."

Arnold's patience was being tried as Stinky continued.

"I know that if I had a girlfriend as beautiful and amazing as Helga, I would never let her out of my sight. That Jake is one lucky fella, having a girl as great, as talented, and as just plan wonderful as Helga. She used to be not so amazing, but she sure is now."

"Stinky, shut up."

"What's wrong with you, Arnold? You are usually such an easy-going guy, but lately you have been grumpy, crappy, and down-right moody."

"I've had a lot on my mind."

"Is it Helga? Because it would be a darn tight spot to be in. Your best friend's boyfriend is your rival so to speak on the team, not to mention he hates your guts, and she's spending more time with him and less time with you. I know I would have a lot of trouble being in your shoes. It would drive me nuts to see her with him all the time, and never with me. It would be darn right hard to take. And who knows how long she's going to be with him. It could last a lifetime."

"Stinky, please, shut up."

Stinky shrugged, leaving Arnold to his homework since everyone else around him were talking to someone else and paying no attention to him. He did not care too much. He was busy thinking about what Stinky had said. Where was Jake? And Stinky had also said that Jake hated Arnold. That was true, but now that he thought about it, it had not always been that way. Granted he and Jake were never friends, but they used to be at least civil towards each other, at least until he started dating Helga. Then Jake suddenly wanted to beat the crap out of Arnold at every practice or find some way to embarrass him or make him look bad in front of their coach. The whole thing suddenly seemed rather interesting.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

"I tried to make you happy, I did all that I could just to keep you, but you left anyway. I'm trying to forget that I'm addicted to you. But I want it, and I need it. I'm addicted to you. Now it's over, can't forget what you said, and I never want to do this again. Heartbreaker."

"Helga, please stop." They were driving home after eating pizza to celebrate the girls' win, and Arnold was tired from thinking too much and eating too much.

"How long will I be waiting? Until the end of time!" she sand loudly and purposely off key. He frowned as she continued. "I don't know why I'm still waiting. I can't make you mine!" She began humming the guitar riffs.

Arnold had had enough. He changed the song.

Obviously Helga did not care too much for aliens because she went ballistic. "Don't you dare touch my radio, Football Head." She flipped it back to "Addicted."

So, naturally, he changed it again.

"Arnold! Don't touch the radio!"

"I'm not touching the radio," he said as he changed songs again, this time skipping over about five songs on the CD. "I'm touching the CD player."

"Same difference! Don't touch it!"

And thus, the war over the CD player began, and lasted for nearly three minutes before Helga's lack of attention to the road caught up with her, and she narrowly missed sideswiping an oversized SUV. Immediately they stopped fighting and sat in silence at the next stoplight. The opening notes of "Perfect" began to play. They continued in quiet, and Helga moved very little as she listened to the lyrics, which Arnold guessed always touched the pain deep inside her.

Hey, dad, look at me,

Think back and talk to me.

Did I grow up according to plan?

Do you think I'm wasting my time doing things I want to do?

Cause it hurts when you disapprove all along.

And now I try hard to make it.

I just want to make you proud.

I'm never gonna be good enough for you.

I can't pretend that I'm all right.

And you can't change me.

Cause we lost it all.

Nothing lasts forever.

I'm sorry I can't be perfect.

Now it's just too late, and we can't go back.

I'm sorry I can't be perfect.

I try not to think about the pain I feel inside.

Did you know you used to be my hero?

All the days you spent with me now seem so far away.

And it feels like you don't care anymore.

And now I try hard to make it.

I just want to make you proud.

I'm never gonna be good enough for you.

I can't stand another fight.

And nothing's alright. 

Cause we lost it all.

Nothing lasts forever.

I'm sorry I can't be perfect.

Now it's just too late, and we can't go back.

I'm sorry I can't be perfect.

Nothing's gonna change the things that you said.

Nothing's gonna make this right again.

Please don't turn your back.

I can't believe it's hard just to talk to you.

Cause you don't understand.

Cause we lost it all.

Nothing lasts forever.

I'm sorry I can't be perfect.

Now it's just too late, and we can't go back.

I'm sorry I can't be perfect.

Cause we lost it all.

Nothing lasts forever.

I'm sorry I can't be perfect.

Now it's just too late, and we can't go back.

I'm sorry I can't be perfect.

He watched her as the song changed to a more upbeat teenage anthem. She was still silent. He struggled to find his voice. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

Arnold was beginning to understand what people meant when they said silence was deafening.

"I should sing something like that, shouldn't I?"

He looked at her, but she kept her eyes glued on the road. He supposed that was not a bad thing, but he wanted to know exactly what she was feeling, and that was hard to figure out without looking directly at her. "What do you mean?"

"I should sing something more personal, right? Then I can sing it with more feeling and whatnot. I just chose the first song on a Supremes' CD."

"There's nothing wrong with the song you picked. Then again, it's not too late to change it."

She said nothing.

"Helga?"

"I can't do it." She wrinkled her face. "I can't let people see that much of me. That song has too much feeling."

"Then that's okay. The song you picked is fine, and you sing it well."

She said nothing, and they listened to Simple Plan until they reached his house. He got out. "Helga, try not to think about things too much. Just do whatever the heck you want to do." He smiled. "That's always been enough for me."

She nodded, a small smile on her face. "Right."

"One more thing."

"Yeah?"

He handed her a bunch of papers. "Could you check my chem. homework for me?"

She glared at him. "Why do I have to do it?"

"Because you are getting an A plus in class, and I am getting a C minus."

"Ouch. I didn't realize you dropped that much."

"Thanks, Helga. Real confidence booster right there."

"I didn't mean it like that!"

He continued to stare coldly at her, and she caved. "Fine, I'll do it along with the other million things I have to do."

"Thanks, Helga, you're the best."

She shook her head and drove off. He really hoped that she would survive the next week and a half. _She may act like she can do it all_, he thought, _but she's human just like the rest of us._

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

_I should be more careful of what I wish for_, Helga thought as she checked Arnold's answers while she did her chem. homework. She had been in the kitchen for about ten minutes before Miriam and Big Bob came in. Now, a half four later, they were still asking dumb questions about the last five months of her life.

"How's that one boy?" Big Bob asked

"Arnold?"

"No, the other one."

"Jake?"

"Yeah. How's he doing?"

She thoughtlessly answered their questions about her and Jake. He said he was coming to her game tonight, but she had not seen him here. "Uh, I'm going to finish my homework upstairs." She grabbed her stuff.

"Oh, dear, do you need any help?" Miriam asked anxiously.

"No, Miriam, I can handle it."

"Okay, dear."

She escaped and ran up to her room. She quickly dialed Jake's number. The line was busy. She tired again ten minutes later. Busy. She called two more times, and the line was busy both times. She tabbed her pencil on her chemistry book. She needed to talk to him. Tomorrow was Valentine's Day, and they had not decided what they were going to do to celebrate the holiday. She spotted her computer and ran over to it. _Maybe the line was busy because he was on the Internet_, she thought, hoping that he was on. She logged on, but he was not on MSN or AOL. She sighed and reluctantly returned to her homework.

Hours later, Helga was staring at her wall, lost in thought. "Helga?" a voice called from the doorway.

"Huh?" It was Miriam.

"Helga, what are you doing up at two thirty?"

"Uh, homework."

"Your teachers make you stare at your bedroom wall?"

"No, I was just thinking about something." She paused. "What are you doing up?"

"Getting a drink of water. What were you thinking about?"

"Just stuff."

"Anything I can help you with?"

"Maybe. Um," she struggled to form words. "Have you ever liked another boy while you were dating a really great one?"

Miriam sat down on Helga's bed. "Yes, honey, many times, but they were just little crushes."

"Well, this is a little more than a crush."

"Oh. I thought you really liked Jake?"

"I do, it's just I really like this other boy as well."

"How does this other boy feel about you?"

"I'm not sure. We're just friends, but really good friends."

Miriam nodded. "And you don't know if you should take a chance with the other boy when you don't know how he feels about you, or stay with Jake, who you know really likes you?"

"Basically. What do you think I should do?" Helga could not believe she was asking Miriam for advice.

"If I were you, honey, I would stick with Jake. You know how he feels and how you feel about him. Now if down the road you find out how this other boy feels, and you decide that you want to be with him, then you break it off with Jake." She smiled at Helga. "You should do whatever you feel is right. Helga. You are only in high school, so even if it doesn't work out with one or both of the boys, it's no big deal. There will be many more boys. When the right one comes along, you'll know, and you won't have to worry about anything else."

"What if I miss him?"

"Helga, once he takes one look at you, that boy won't be going anywhere unless you are going there too."

Helga smiled, and flinched when Miriam suddenly hugged her. "I wouldn't worry about it for now." She pulled back and brushed some of Helga's hair away from her face. "I would just get a good night's sleep, so go to bed."

"Thanks, Mom," Helga said as Miriam left, but as she drifted to sleep, she was as confused as ever. She cared about Jake, and Jake was her boyfriend, but she could not shake her feelings for Arnold. _Damn it_, she thought. _I thought I had gotten over him, but now I feel like I am falling for him again, and I still don't know how he feels about me_. Her thoughts drowned out as she welcomed sleep, but they would be waiting for her when she woke up. Arnold or Jake . . . Arnold or Jake . . . Arnold or Jake . . .

A/N: Next chapter is "My Funny Valentine." And that's all I have to say about that. Later days.


	16. My Funny Valentine

A/N: To all those people who have been waiting patiently for some Helga and Arnold fluff, I'm throwing you a bone. There sort of is all that gooey stuff here, so I hope you are satisfied for now. Actually, the next four chapters should be very enjoyable, because they mostly deal with Helga and Arnold's relationship with each other. Anyways, you still need to be patient with me because this story has a long way to go, but hopefully it will be good.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold!, and I have learned to deal with that.

Where to Begin

Chapter 16 – My Funny Valentine

            "Is potato soup supposed to have meat in it?" Helga asked, carefully examining her soup.

            Brainy just shrugged, Arnold did not look up from his trig homework, and Alex continued making a log cabin with his ketchup and French fries. Helga pushed the bowl away and bit into her grilled cheese sandwich. "I hate Friday lunches."

            "Me too," Alex murmured. 

            Helga returned to her sandwich since it was the only thing that seemed to be remotely interested in her, or anything else for that matter. Brainy looked like he was going to fall asleep and land in his green bean casserole, Arnold was looking extremely frustrated, and Alex was now building a barn to go with the cabin.

            "Hey, Helga, Brainy, Arnold, Alex," a rather perky voice said beside her.

            Helga looked up was surprised to see Alexis Manley standing beside her. Not necessarily that she was there, but that she knew who Brainy and Alex were. They were not exactly the most popular boys in school. Brainy and Alex had suddenly sprung to life and were smiling widely, obviously pleased at being greeted by name by such a pretty and popular senior girl. Arnold, however, had not seemed to notice Alexis was there. "Hey, what are you up to?" Helga asked, putting her sandwich down.

            Alexis gestured to the small container in her hands. "I'm selling Valentine's Day suckers to raise money for the yearbook."

            "Ah, another person making money off this wonderful holiday. But I suppose if it's for a good cause." She handed Alexis fifty cents.

            "Boys, c'mon," she cooed, and Brainy and Ales each bought two. Arnold still had not acknowledged Alexis was even there. She smiled broadly. "Aw, Arnold, you got to support us. I took some amazing shots of you on Tuesday. You played awesome."

            He looked up and stared at her for a few moments, not at all impressed by her ploy. Helga kicked him, and he finally muttered, "Thanks," and handed her two quarters before returning to his textbook.

            The girls exchanged glances. "Oh, Helga, Jake left me a voice mail during last period. He wants you to call him."

            Arnold looked up and was suddenly interested in the conversation.

            "Oh, thanks. Do you know why he's not here today? I tried calling him last night but the line was busy the whole night."

            Alexis shook her head, causing her raven curls to bounce. The other two boys were mesmerized, and Alex had actually started to droll. "Uh-uh, but he's at home. Anyways, I'll see you later. Thanks, guys."

            Arnold and Helga locked eyes for a few seconds before Arnold stood. "I'm going to go dump my tray," he said simply, and she watched him leave. He neared a table of freshman girls who began whispering and giggling as he walked closer. He stopped, glared at them, and gave his sucker to one of the girls. 

            Helga watched in confusion. "Uh, I'm going to call Jake," she said, but Brainy and Alex's thoughts were elsewhere. She quickly walked over to Arnold, grabbed his shoulder, and pun him around to face her. "What was that?"

            Arnold took one last bite of his sandwich before tossing it. "It was supposed to be a BLT, but I am questioning the bacon part of it. The meat reminded me of Grandma's corned beef."

            "You know what I mean."

            "Since when is it a crime to be annoyed while doing trig problems?"

            "Why are you rushing through it now? You don't have trig until tomorrow."

            "Since when do you have my entire schedule memorized?"

            "Since the first day of school."

            "I forgot to do it for yesterday, and then I forget I have to turn it in today."

            "That's all that's bothering you?" she asked skeptically.

            He sighed, clearly aggravated, and looker her square in the eye. "I hate Valentine's Day. You know that."

            She looked disgusted. "So that's your excuse for being a dick?"

            He glared at her. "Yes, that's why. I hate this holiday. I hate the over use of the colors red and pink. I hate the shit-tasting candy hearts with the dumbass sayings. I hate the couples at this school that suddenly think they are in love as it is February when they haven't the damnedest idea what it feels like. I hate how I always gain weight and break out from eating too much chocolate. And I have being alone on Valentine's since it has been beaten into my head that you should spend this God-forsaken holiday with someone you care about."

            Helga bit her lip. His face was red and she could not recall the last time she heard him cuss so much. It was not right to see the usually mellow Arnold so upset and angry. That was her role in the partnership. "Uh, Arnold – "

            He ran a hand through his messy blonde hair, causing it to become even more unruly. "Look, I'm sorry for . . . that. I'm, uh, just a little stressed out."

            "That's understandable. I mean – "

            "Look, I have to finish this." His eyes narrowed slightly and his voice caught an edge. "Shouldn't you go call Jake?"

            "Don't tell me you are starting that again," she said defensively.

            "Relax, Helga. I'm _happy_ for you. I'm happy you have someone who _cares_ for you as much as Jake does. I would _hate_ for you to lose a great guy like him over something as trivial as a phone call." He walked away, leaving her feeling a mixture of hurt and anger.

            She walked over to the pay phone after the sting wore off. She deposited her coins and dialed Jake's number.

            "Hello?" he answered. His voice sounded very tired and stressed.

            "Hey. It's me."

            "Helga, hey."

            "Un, I tried calling last night. I missed you at the game. Is everything okay? How come you're not at school?"

            He sighed. "Um, no. My great-uncle died yesterday morning."

            She felt awful. And I was worrying about Valentine's plans. "I'm sorry," was all she could say.

            "It's okay. I didn't even know him that well cause he leaved across the country, and I hardly talk to him. Mom was really closed to him. She's a wreck. That's why I couldn't come last night or today."

            "No, don't feel bad. I understand." She paused. "Is there anything I can do?"

            "No. We are flying out tonight, so I won't be able to go out with you tonight. I'm sorry."

            "Don't' be. Listen, don't worry about it. I'll be fine. Are you going to be okay?"

            "Yeah, I'll be okay. So, what are you going to do instead?"

            "Probably watch Molly Ringrold movies and stuff my face with chocolate."

            "Sounds like fun."

            The bell rang. "Listen, I have to go. Are you sure you are okay?"

            "Yes, Helga, I'm okay," he said, and she could tell he was smiling. "I'm more worried about you. After all, now you can't stare lovingly at my face all night."

            "Right," she replied smiling slightly herself.

            "Hasta luego, Helga."

            "Bye," she whispered, and she heard a small click in her ear. She walked to class slowly, lost in her thoughts.

  ¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            "That's awful, Helga."

            "Yeah."

            Phoebe leaned up against the lockers as Helga got her stuff. A few down, Gerald was doing the same beside Arnold's locker. "So, what are you going to do tonight?"

            Helga shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't given much thought to what I'll be doing tonight. I was thinking of other things."

            "Why don't you come with us?"

            Helga shot Phoebe a look. "Uh, Pheebs, I don't really feel like being a third wheel on Valentine's Day. Or any day for that matter."

            "Well, Arnold could come as well."

            Arnold groaned loudly and his head disappeared inside his messy locker.

            "Why not? The plan was for Arnold to come along anyways," Gerald started. "But he didn't seem to really wanted to find a date to go with him."

            "Shut up, Gerald," Arnold muttered. A nasty remark was on the tip of Helga's tongue to get Arnold back for his comments earlier, but something stopped her.

            Gerald continued. "Man, I don't understand what is wrong with you. There are tons of girls in this school who would love to go out on a date with you."

            "Shut up, Gerald," he hissed.

            Gerald raised an eyebrow, but said nothing to him. "So what do you say, Helga?"

            "If it is okay with Football Head," she said and glared at him coldly. She was still made for earlier.

            He returned her icy gaze. "Fine." He slammed his locker shut.

            "Fine," and she did the same.

            "Great. We'll pick you up around seven thirty," Phoebe said excitedly.

            "Fine."

            "Fine."

            The two stared at each other. Helga finally tossed her hair and headed for basketball practice. "See ya later."

            Arnold mockingly did the same about five seconds later. Helga spun around on her heel and glared at him before disappearing around a corner in a huff. Arnold again mimicked her.

            "Uh-oh," Gerald said as he put his arm around Phoebe.

            "What?"

            "I don't think we should have done that."

            "Why?"

            "Because they have a thing for each other."

            Phoebe squealed. "I'm glad somebody else finally said that! Ooh, perfect!"

            "What are you planning?"

            "I'm just going to speed up what should naturally happen."

            "Phoebe, I'm not sure we should. I mean, there's Jake and – "

            "Gerald, those two are meant to be together. I don't think anyone can argue that."

            "If it is meant to be it will eventually happen."

            "Well, I'm sick of waiting."

            Gerald stared down at her, then smiled. "What are you planning for us to do?"

            "Not much. Just get them on the right path."

            "That's all?"

            "That's all."

            They both grinned and began swapping ideas. It was obvious they had a lot of work to do.

  ¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            "So we are going to see a movie that was made over fifty years ago?" Arnold asked dryly from the back seat.

            "Arnold, its _Casablanca_, the greatest romance movie of all time."

            "And you agreed to go see it?" he asked Gerald. He merely shrugged and kept silent as he drove. Arnold had a feeling he remembered what the movie _Whatever it Takes_ had taught him about _Casablanca._ Arnold glanced at Helga who looked lost in thought. _Great_, he thought. _She'll be thinking about Jake all night_. He groaned as Phoebe continued explaining the plot lines of _Casablanca_, and Arnold wished he was at home eating his grandma's Easter eggs (she had dressed up as the Easter bunny for the occasion) and watching a basketball or hockey game.

            Gerald pulled into the Memory Lane Cinema, and the four walked in. Arnold tried to pay for Helga's ticket, but she would have none of that. Gerald and Phoebe shoe seats towards the front. Arnold started to follow tem, but Helga put her arm out and stopped him. He stared at her. "Don't you want to sit with Gerald and Phoebe?"

            "Do you really want to sit with them? Phoebe's going to cry the whole time, and Gerald is going to try to get Phoebe to make out with him."

            "Oh, I see your point." They sat down towards the back of the theater, which was now filled with couples.

            Sure enough, halfway though the movie, Phoebe and just about every other girl was crying. Well, at least the one who weren't making out with their dates, and all the guys who were stuck watching the movie were cursing the other lucky bastards. Helga, on the other hand, was stuffing her face full of popcorn. She managed to stop inhaling her food long enough to watch Arnold pick fuzz balls off his sweater. "Aren't you interested in this at all?"

            He snorted and received a few dirty looks from girls around him. "Are you kidding? Now I know that I am probably more sensitive than most sixteen year-old boys, but seriously, Helga, does anyone with a Y chromosome actually like this movie?"

            She smiled. "Point made." She returned to her popcorn with an expression on her face that looked like she was about to do algebraic equations.

            "Wait, don't you like this movie?"

            She gave him a look as if he just said the secret to staying young forever was bathing in cheddar cheese every night. "What do you think? I've seen it before I can confidently tell you it isn't better the second time around." She received even more nasty looks because not only was she talking during a rather stirring moment between Humphry Bogart and Ingrid , but she was also bashing the movie.

            "So if I don't like it, and you don't lie it, why are we still here?"

            She paused as she was about to eat another handful. "That is a very good point." They made their way through the narrow isle and past many grumbling viewers and groping couples. Arnold heaved a sigh of relief. "Remind me never to see that movie again."

            She threw a popcorn kernel at him. "It wasn't that bad."

            "Was too."

            She threw a fist full at him.

            "Do you mind? Lord, I can't take you anywhere."

            She spit of the popcorn that was in her mouth and it landed on the side of his face. Helga smiled sweetly at him as he glared at her. "A gift from me to you."

            He wiped his face. "Yeah, nothing says 'I care' like spit covered popcorn."

            She shrugged as he opened the door for her. "It's more intimate than just throwing it at you."

            He ignored one word in that sentence and breathed in the air. It was oddly warm for mid-February. "Where to now?"

            "Hmmm . . ." She bounced up and down on her toes. He could not help but notice how cute she looked. "Het's go get something to eat."

            "You're still hungry after eating an entire bag of extra large bag of popcorn?"

            "I didn't eat all of it. I threw about half of it on you and other various people in the theater."

            He rolled his eyes. "What were you thinking of?"

            She looked up at the starry sky for answers. "Ooh! Coney dogs!"

            "Coney dogs?"

            "Yeah! There's a Coney Island about a block form here."

            "There's a Coney Island in Hillwood?"

            "Yep." She grabbed his hand and began pulling him down the sidewalk. Arnold felt himself blush, and he noticed Helga's cheeks were also red, but it could have been from the cold.

            Fifteen minutes later Helga was practically drooling as she eyed her prey in front of her. "Now this is what Valentine's Day is really about."

            Arnold ate a French fry. "Pig intestines?"

            "No," she snapped. "It's not about the pricey, fancy restaurants or the old romantic movies." She rubbed her hands together and placed a few napkins on her lap. "It's about clogging your arteries as fast as possible."

            He grabbed another French fry. "Isn't that the opposite of Valentine's Day?"

            "How so?"

            "Well, clogging your arteries is bad for your heart, and this holiday is all about the heart."

            She stared blankly at him. "Seriously, Football Head, do you want to borrow one of my skirts?"

            He glared at her. "Why not, since you'll be needing to borrow my pants." He pointed at her pile of food.

            "It wouldn't help too much. You are too skinny."

            "So are you."

`          "Not for long," she said as she gazed lovingly at her dinner of three Coney dogs and a large order of chili cheese fries. "This is almost too beautiful to eat."

            Arnold bit into his only Coney dog. "You are never going to be able to finish that."

            "Will too."

            "I bet you five dollars you can't"

            She eyed him carefully. "Cheapskate," she said as she ate a fry. "Ten dollars."

            "Fine. Seven."

            "Twenty."

            "Ten."

            "Forty."

            "_Ten_."

            "If you are so sure you'll win, what's the big deal?"

            He growled. "Fine. Twenty dollars you can't eat all that."

            She shook his hand. "You're on."

            As he watched her stuff down her food and yell at the hockey game on television, be could not help but be amazed at how beautiful she looked. She was so comfortable with him. She did not care if she looked like a pig in front of him.

            "Are you listening to me?"

            Arnold broke free of his thoughts. "Huh?"

            She sighed. "I just wanted to say that I'm glad you came along."

            "No problem."

            "No, it means a lot. If it weren't for you I would be sitting on my couch in my pajamas watching _Sixteen Candles_. He shot her a look. "I know I am still stuffing my face, but this isn't so pathetic."

            "Thanks, Helga," he said flatly.

            "I didn't mean it like that." She patted her stomach. "All done."

            "WHAT?"

            "All done." She smiled. "That'll be twenty dollars."

            His jaw dropped as the waitress handed him the check.

            "I'll pay since you so stupidly bet against me," she said, grabbing the bill. Arnold would have snatched it back, but he was now low on cash.

            "Oh, I almost forgot. Would you be interested in a triple fudge brownie sundae?" the waitress asked. "It's half off for couples."

            "Uh, we're not a couple," Helga said. "And no thank you. We're fine."

            "Really? I could have sworn . . . . Well, I wouldn't rule the option out. You two look really cute together." She took their plates. "Have a nice night." She left the two madly blushing.

            "We should probably get back to the theater. The movie's probably about over," Arnold said after Helga paid.

            She nodded, and they walked in silence, still feeling a little awkward after the waitress's comment. However, by the time Phoebe and Gerald emerged from the theater, Helga and Arnold were laughing hysterically. "Hey, guys," Helga said, still laughing. "How was the movie?"

            "Wonderful," Phoebe said as she wiped her eyes.

            Gerald yawned. "Yeah, great." He sat down beside Arnold. "Didn't you stay for the whole thing?"

            He shook his head. "No, we left about an hour in."

            Phoebe looked appalled, and Gerald whispered, "Lucky bastard."

            Arnold smirked. "Yeah, we went and ate at Coney Island," he said as Phoebe asked Helga how they could leave _Casablanca_ early.

            "That sounds good," Gerald said. "Wanna get something to eat?" he asked Phoebe.

            "Sure." She turned to Helga and Arnold. "Do you want to go with us?"

            "Uh, no," they said together. "We'll just walk around," Helga finished.

            Arnold was surprised, and so was Phoebe. "Are you sure that's safe."

            "Arnoldo's a black belt. He can protect me." Arnold felt his cheeks burn again.

            "Or your face could scare everyone away," Gerald said teasingly to Helga.

            "Real funny, Hair Boy. If you are going to insult me, at least make it original," she snapped, but she was smiling.

            "Uh, we'll see you later," Phoebe said as she pulled Gerald away from Helga. "Just meet us there in a half hour."

            Arnold offered Helga his arm. "Shall we?"

            "We shall," she replied, grinning from ear to ear. They walked underneath the starry sky, talking aimlessly about anything. Arnold was as happy as he had been in weeks. They walked by a line for a carriage ride. "Want to go for a round around the park?"

            She wrinkled her nose. "No. A certain _Seinfeld_ episode comes to mind."

            He laughed, and they walked into the park, and Helga sat down on a fountain that was half frozen. "It is beautiful outside."

            "I completely agree," he said, not taking his eyes off her as he sat down beside her. She smiled slightly and blushed. She leaned closer to him. "So, how's the pageant coming?" he asked softly. For some reason he felt it would have been wrong to talk any louder than he was right now.

            She groaned. "I can't believe I still have a week left of practice."

            "You'll be wishing for more come this time next Friday."

            "Yeah. Things will be crazy then. What about you? Will you be nervous and blushing and about ready to throw up?"

            He laughed. "Naw, I work well under pressure."

            "Right," she said, rolling her eyes.

            "So, how are things at home?"

            "Fine. Miriam and I actually had a mother-daughter moment last night," her voice died towards the end. She moved away from him a little.

            "What's wrong?" he asked, fully aware of her sudden mood change.

            "It's nothing. I just remembered what we talked about." She looked into his bright green eyes. "It's no big deal." Again her words trailed off. She leaned closer to him, her head tilted slightly upward. Arnold leaned in as well, and she closed her eyes. He then realized what he was about to do, and pulled away. He could not do this to her. Not now. "I think we better head back."

            Her eyes opened slowly. "Right," she managed to say. She got up, her face emotionless as it had been earlier in the week. He grabbed some of the ice and dropped it down the back of her shirt, and they forgo what had just happened . . . at least for now.

  ¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            The drive home should not have taken more than a half-hour, but it seemed a lot longer with Phoebe analyzing the movie and comparing it to Bogart's other films. Gerald, Arnold, and Helga were listening to a basketball game on the radio. Arnold was drumming his fingers on the window when Helga suddenly leaned her had on his shoulder. He looked down at her and smiled. She was fast asleep. He cautiously put his arm around her, and in the front seats Gerald and Phoebe could not help but smile.

They pulled into Phoebe's driveway. Helga's head popped up as they stopped. Arnold unbuckled his seat belt, confusing everyone else in the car.

            "What are you doing?" Gerald asked. He did not really want Arnold around as he said good night to his girlfriend.

            "I figured I'd walk Helga home so you and Phoebe could be alone." He turned to Helga. "If that's all right with you?"

            She nodded sleepily and got out of the car. They said good-bye to Gerald and Phoebe and headed towards Helga's house. She was leaning on Arnold for support as they walked, and Arnold did not mind at all. They talked about everything as they walked (Helga was going on and on about tomatoes) and reached house laughing heartily.

            She smiled at him. "I'm glad you came tonight. This is most fun I've had in a while."

            "Me too."

            Her smile beamed brighter and her eyes lit up. "I almost forgot. I got you a gift."

            He nodded and pulled out a small box and handed it to her. She laughed. "Assorted chocolates. How original."

            "Hey, why mess with perfection?"

            "Good point. Thank you." She pulled a small, red gift bag out of her purse. "For you."

            He opened the bag and grinned. It was filled with little candy hearts with the messages on them. "Helga, you shouldn't have." He ate one. "Thanks."

            "Well, I knew they were your favorites. And you're welcome." She did not know what else to say. Al she knew was that she did not wanted the night to end, and as she looked into Arnold's eyes she could tell he did not want it to either. But it had to. As much as she wanted it to last a lifetime, she knew it had to end, and he knew it too. "Good night, Arnold," she whispered, and she kissed him lightly on the cheek before disappearing inside her house. 

            Arnold walked home feeling lighter than air.

A/N: Does anyone else refer to a grilled cheese sandwich as a cheese toasty? For the longest time I only knew this wonderful sandwich by the latter name. Oh well. Next chapter is "Up Close and Personal." Later days.


	17. Up Close and Personal

A/N: This chapter is now fixed. Sorry about that. It's different from the original, but the basis is the same.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold!, and I am not quite clear on who really does. I think a lot of people own our beloved Football Head, and Helga would like to be one of those people.

Where to Begin

Chapter 17 – Up Close and Personal

Helga dragged herself down to the kitchen the next morning. It was five after seven, and the only thing she wanted to do was take two Ibuprofen, grab an orange juice and a muffin, and watch cartoons until she fell back asleep. As it was, she had basketball practice and pageant practice this morning, and then she had a boatload of homework to look forward to. Her mood was dark enough when she heard Miriam and Big Bob talking about something as if the Queen of England was interested in buying a beeper, thus leading to a whole new European market. Helga decided that was not such a bad idea; her parents could move across the Atlantic, and she could move in with Phoebe.

"Oh, Helga, honey, there you are. Sit down. We have such great news for you," Miriam chirped, ruining Helga's happy thought of having not only a country but an entire ocean between her and her parents. Reluctantly she sat down and grabbed a banana nut muffin.

"Do you want to tell her or should I?" Bob chocked out between huge bites of steak.

"Honey, Olga's coming home next weekend!" Miriam shouted.

Helga was surprised that balloons and confetti did not start falling form the ceiling. "Next weekend?"

"Yes. She's playing in Seattle on Saturday night. We are going to go see her and then spend Sunday with her before she has to fly out again."

"Next weekend? As in next Saturday and Sunday?" Helga asked, looking back and forth between her parents.

"Yes! Can you believe it? It's been so long since we saw her!"

"She was home a month over Christmas!" Helga cried, remembering the worst month of her life.

"Helga, you sound upset," Miriam said, casually taking a sip of coffee.

"Do you even remember what is happening next Sunday?"

"What's happening next Sunday?" Big Bob asked.

"The Miss Hillwood Pageant!" Helga yelled. "What you have been talking about for the past three weeks!" She turned to her dad. "You have to be there if I get into the top five so you can escort me during the evening ware competition!"

"Of course we remember, honey," Miriam said in a tone that clearly meant she had forgotten. "We'll be back. I promise."

"Right," Helga said coldly. "I have to get ready." She got up and started back to her room.

"Honey, we'll be there. Don't worry. Right, B?"

"Yeah, wouldn't miss it for the world."

Helga turned back towards her parents. "Right. Thanks." She went into her room. _Olga is your world. It'll be a cold day in hell before you choose me over Olga_, she thought as she brushed her teeth, and she silently curse herself as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

¤ -¤ - ¤

Arnold stared with mild interest at the stage. Most boys his age would be in heaven with all the girls running around, but all he wanted to do was go home. It was nearing two, and he had been here for too long. The girls were rehearsing on stage, and all their talent acts were blurring together. At least they were almost done.

"Lights should probably be a little dimmed, right?" Arnold asked Josh as he watched Sabrina Verducci perform. He supposed she was doing well, but in his stare of mind he would probably agree that _Dude, Where's my Car?_ should have won an Oscar. He rubbed his eyes and scribbled a few notes down.

"I'll go tell them," Josh said, and slowly walked towards the stage. Arnold could not blame him. Everyone looked tired and was moving slower. That is what February will do to you.

"Exciting, isn't it?"

Arnold looked up from his clipboard. Callie was now sitting beside him. "Something like that. You just missed Josh."

She groaned. "Oh, thank God." Arnold raised an eyebrow at her, and she continued. "Look, I like Josh and everything, but you have to agree he comes on a bit too strong."

"He just likes you."

"Arnold, the other day he asked me to marry him, and I'm still not sure if he was joking or not."

He laughed. "I couldn't tell you. At least you know he wouldn't have any commitment problems."

"Yeah," she said, laughing with him. "Everything all set?" she asked, pointing to his clipboard.

Arnold laughed hollowly. "I wish."

She nodded. "I know what you mean. I wish this whole thing were over. Then things can get back to normal."

Arnold did not reply. What was normal anymore? Normal, at least before the pageant, was Helga being his best friend and nothing more. Now he had to hold himself back every time he saw her from taking her into his arms and kissing her passionately. And that scared the living daylights out of him. Just last night he almost kissed her before he remembered Jake. A small smiled crept on his face as he remembered the night before.

Callie noticed his mood change. "What are you so happy about?"

"What are you talking about?" he said as he blushed and tried to keep from showing his emotions.

"Arnold, you look like a giddy little girl."

He gave her a look that said, are you kidding me? She glared at him. "I'm tired, and I'm sure you are a literary genius when you haven't had enough sleep and are stressed out."

"I could do better than that."

She folded her arms. "I'm waiting."

He sat up in his chair. "Okay, okay, uh, um . . . okay, I got nothing."

She smirked smugly. "That's what I thought."

He turned his attention back to the stage. Helga had just come out and was getting the microphone ready so she could sing.

"There it is again!" Callie cried.

"What?"

"That look?"

"What? What look? There is no look!"

"Yes, that stupid, goofy look on your face! That's – " her voice died as she caught sight of the stage. She stared at Helga for a minute before turning back to him, grinning wickedly. "Now that's more interesting and makes more sense."

"No, no, no, no, no, and no," he interrupted.

"Yes, yes, yes! I knew it but I didn't think it was this bad."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Yes, you do. You know exactly what I mean! I knew it!"

"No, you have no idea what you are talking about, Callie, so just drop it."

"You are so crushing on her." Callie burst out laughing.

"Even if it were true, which it's not, I don't think it would be laughing matter."

"I'm not laughing at you, I just don't understand why I don't see it sooner. I could have had a lot more fun making fun of you," she said, punching him in the arm.

He sat in his own misery waiting for her to finish laughing at him. "Are you done yet?"

She sighed. "I think so."

"Good."

Her expression became serious. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"About what?"

"Helga!"

"Nothing. I mean, the lights are good, and the mic sounds fine – "

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Nothing."

"Nothing? How can you do nothing, Arnold? You care about the girl. Tell her!"

"Oh, yes, that'll be a pleasant conversation. 'Helga, I know you have a boyfriend that you care about deeply, but I am crushing on you really bad, so what do you say? How about a dinner and a movie?' Hello! Have you forgotten about Jake?"

"So what?"

"So what? So plenty! SHE HAS A BOYFRIEND, not to mention one that hates me! She is dating Jake!"

"Arnold, I would bet money on it that Helga cares far more about you than she does about Jake."

"Sure."

She pounded on his head. "Are there any brains inside that football head of yours?"

"Hey, hey, hey! Do you mind?"

"Arnold, you are completely blind. Helga is just as crazy about you as you are about her."

"Really?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes. So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know."

"Well, if I were you, God forbid, I would tell her. What's the worst that would happen?"

"She would laugh in my face, be so embarrassed she would never talk to me again, and I would lose her as a friend."

"That wouldn't happen and you know it."

He rolled his eyes. "You really think I should tell her?"

"Yes! It will turn out better than you think."

Josh came back and sat beside them. "So, what are you to talking about?"

Callie looked at Arnold and smiled. "Arnold seems to think that the Spurs don't have a chance to win the championship this year. He thinks the Lakers will win again."

"Really? I agree with Callie. Sorry man, but I am a Webber fan, and I think it will be the Kings on top this year."

Callie shook her head and kept smiling at Arnold. "No, the classy guys will win over the flashy guys in the end. Trust me."

He eyed her, suddenly deciding that Callie was an amazing person and a good friend. But he still was not sure if her advice was the best way to go.

¤ -¤ - ¤

                "What the hell do you mean you're not coming?"

                "Jesus, Arnold, I didn't think you would care _that_ much. Give me a break," Gerald muttered, holding the phone slightly away from his ears to spare them from Arnold's yelling.

                Arnold began pacing angrily across his room. "First Stinky, now you. What the hell happened to Sunday being basketball day?"

                Gerald rolled his eyes. "So I've missed one in the past three years, or whatever. Kill me." He yawned. "I'd much rather play than have to go to Timberly's concert. Where's Stinky at?"

                "Out of town with his dad."

                "Oh. Well, I still don't see your problem. Helga'll still be there, and she'll be happy kick your ass all by herself."

                There was no answer from Arnold's end.

                "Oh, so that's what this is about." Gerald could not suppress a laugh. "You don't want to be alone with Helga."

                "That's not it at all!" Arnold cried. He could feel his face turning red.

                "You're probably right. After all, you didn't mind being alone with her Friday night."

                Arnold groaned. "That's my point exactly. Gerald, I almost kissed her! Do you know what Jake would do to me if he found out? The guy's not exactly my biggest fan." He finished darkly.

                "Would you really care if you actually got to kiss Helga G. Pataki?"

                Arnold remained silent.

                "Look, if I were you, I'd still go. She'll go berserk if you don't show, but just try not too close to her." Gerald laughed loudly. "Obviously you're having trouble restraining yourself and your animal urges around her."

                "Shut up!" Arnold cried, blushing more. "I need your advice, Gerald, not to be the punch line of every joke! I think I've been laughed at enough for this to last a coupla weeks," he finished darkly.

                Gerald swallowed hard to keep from laughing. "Who else has been laughing at you?"

                "Callie. She knows how I feel about Helga too."

                "Arnold, I hate to tell you, but just about everyone but Helga knows how you feel about Helga."

                Arnold groaned. "Callie thinks I should tell her."

                "Good for Callie," Gerald said shortly.

                Arnold paused. "You don't think I should?"

                "No, I don't, but my opinion doesn't really matter, and I've never been a big Helga Pataki fan anyways. Look, what matters is what you want and how far you are willing to go to get it." He paused. "I got to go. Just, don't do anything stupid, alright?"

                "Right. Bye, Gerald."

                Arnold gazed up at the gray sky through the skylight. _Just how far am I willing to go?_

¤ -¤ - ¤

                "And Pataki scores again, retaking the lead." Helga jumped up and down after making her lay-up. "Honestly, Football Head, you're off today."

                He glared at her as he checked the ball. "And you're still only beating me by one." He shot faked, dribbled right, and pulled up, making a long jump shot. "That's two points for me."

                "Yeah, but you should be killing me. After all, you are the boy," she shot back as she made a long three.

                Arnold laughed as he grabbed the ball. "Helga, that may be true, but we were never completely sure that you are in fact a girl."

                She stuck her tongue out at him. "We? So you do have voices in your head."

                He pulled up and shot from the wing. The ball hit the rim hard and ricocheted in the opposite direction.

                Arnold quickly looked over at her. She winked at him before running away.

                "Helga! You cheater! Get back here!" he cried as he ran after her. She was about a foot away from the ball when he dove to stop her. The two collided and tumbled away from the ball, which continued rolling. They stopped after a few seconds, Arnold landing on top of Helga.

                She was shaking from laughter. "Hamburger is definitely a bad game to play on cold cement."

                He smiled down at her. "Ya think? God, my knees are gonna be all tore up."

                Helga grinned. "Aw, poor baby. You need a kiss to make them feel better?"

                Arnold froze, and Helga's smile faded as she realized what she said. "Arnold—" she began, but the words died in her throat as he brushed a few stray strands of hair out of her face. She closed her eyes as Arnold lowered his lips to hers.

                It was bliss, it was perfect, and the rest of the world melted around them. The only thing that mattered was that moment.

A/N: Next chapter is "It Happened One Night." I'll leave you with that. Later days.


	18. It Happened One Night

A/N: The conclusion of I think my only cliff hanger thus far. Hmmm . . . I need to work on those. Sorry for the late update. I've been catching up on my homework (do you know how wrong that sounds in July?) And if you were confused, hamburger is a basketball game in which two players chase and fight over a ball, and then play one-on-one. It's fun because you get lots of bruises and floor burns (or scraps, in Helga and Arnold's case). Ah, those were the days.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Hey Arnold!, and this is feeling very repetitive.

Where to Begin

Chapter 18 – It Happened One Night

Helga was the first to finally pull away, her eyes wide and startled. "We — we can't . . . " her words trailed off.

"Helga, I'm sorry. I crossed that line and – "

"It's not that." She closed her eyes. "I can't do this. Not now."

"What do you mean?"

"Arnold, can you please get off me?"

He blushed furiously sat beside her. "What do you mean?" he asked again.

"I can't do this. Not to you, and not to Jake." She lowered her eyes and stared at the ground.

"Helga, I'm so sorry," he whispered after a few minutes of silence.

"Don't say that! Don't apologize! This is my fault, not yours!"

He tried to search her eyes for answers, but she refused to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"It's not your fault. It's mine. I let myself . . . and you . . . I let it go too far! God, I can't do this to him!"

"But, Helga, if you feel – "

"No! No! I can't feel anything! I'm with Jake, and I can't do this to him!" she cried hysterically. She finally met his gaze, and her eyes were filled with tears. "And I can't do this to you," she whispered softly, and than she ran. He could not even run after her. He sat with his head in his hands as he wondered how it got to this point.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

Cause you said you can't change the way you feel (I could never do that, I could never do that),

But you can't tell me this ain't real, cause this is real (And you would see right through that).

In the end it's all I got (So I will hold onto that),

So I'm gonna hold on (and on and on and on and on).

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

_Does anyone really celebrate President's Day?_ Arnold thought as he walked to the Omni Theater, which was quite a way from the boarding house, but he needed to clear his head and breathe fresh air after locking himself in his room yesterday. "Sunday, bloody Sunday," he muttered. _But really_, he began again, _do people have parties? I know it's a day off from school and work and there are marathons on kids' television stations, but that doesn't really qualify for a celebration._

The theater lacked its usual glory as it stood high and proud on the gray canvass that was the dull, cold February day. Arnold decided that he hated February and everything that went with it, going back to his philosophy that Valentine's Day was the worst holiday. The shortest month of the year seemed to drag on and on, never ending, like a visit from your in-laws, or in his case, his cousin Arnie. He walked inside, and the interior of the theater with its bright chandlers and plush carpets did nothing for his mood; in fact, it worsened, reminding him what he would be stuck doing for the afternoon.

_At least I got out of the first part_, he thought as he walked back stage. He missed the morning rehearsals because of basketball practice. The girls and others had been there since eight this morning. It was now one, and he expected to be out by five, four at best.

He was welcomed by excessive wailing that he supposed was meant to be singing. He watched from backstage as Lila was performing a stirring rendition of Mariah Carey's "Hero," and by stirring he meant that it was giving him the urge to throw up. Josh walked over to him, his hands covering his ears. "It's bad if you would welcome the sound of finger nails scraping a chalkboard, right?"

Arnold said nothing and nodded slightly. He was surprised that Josh did not serve as a needed distraction for his problems, but all he wanted was to be alone.

"You okay?" Josh asked.

"I'm fine," he lied. "I just have a lot on my mind."

Josh was confused. Arnold was never one to talk your head off, but he was hardly a reserved or aloof person. However, Josh did not press him to explain himself. Arnold looked like that was the last thing he needed. "Uh, what do you think of the lighting?" he asked, trying to change the subject and get some work done.

"Lila looks good in any light," Arnold said absentmindedly. "Too bad we couldn't fix the mic so she would sound halfway decent." He watched her with interest. Lila was trying too hard. He knew she actually had a pleasant voice; she had had one since childhood. Then again, she was singing a Mariah Carey song, which could be difficult to sing; that and he never cared too much for the singer.

Josh was more confused than ever. Arnold had just said that Lila looked good all the time, and he had not said a thing about Helga.

"I will be glad when this is over, and I never have to hear her voice again," he heard Callie said as she walked towards Josh, Helga right behind her.

"Speak of the devil," Josh muttered, but Arnold was messing with the curtain.

"Ditto," Helga said, watching Lila and not paying the slightest bit of attention to what was in front of her.

"Watch out!" Callie and Josh cried together, but Helga collided with Arnold just as he turned around, and they fell down on the floor. They waited for a snide comment from Helga, even though it was her fault, but she just stared at Arnold, her eyes as wide as saucers, and her cheeks bright red.

Helga stared at him certain that her expression mirrored Arnold's of open fear and pain. His green eyes gazed into hers, and she knew he was thinking exactly what she was thinking, of the last time they ran into each other . . . .

"Are you guys okay?" Josh asked, offering his hand to Helga.

They finally broke eye contact, and Arnold gruffly muttered, "We're just fine." He shot her a look of repugnance as he stood up and walked away.

Helga pushed Josh's hand away and got up without any assistance. "We're fine, thank you." She glared at him while he gaped at her. "Why don't you go run after Mr. Pissy-Pants?" she snapped.

"Helga!" Callie cried.

Helga looked from Josh to Callie, and her frustration hit the fan. "Oh FUCK it!" she hissed loudly before stomping off.

Josh turned to Callie, looking completely serious. "Well, what do you think is wrong?"

She bit her lip. "I think I may have given the wrong advice." She sighed. "I'm going to go talk to Helga."

"Are you sure that's a safe idea?"

"Helga's just extremely emotional. She has a lot of anger, but she wouldn't hurt someone that she cares about. At least not physically, or intentionally."

"Well, if anything should happen to you, just call my name, and I will be there as your knight in shining armor." He grabbed her and held her close to him.

"JOSH!" She cried, pushing him away, or at least trying to. "Get off of me!"

He stared down at her. "Callie, why fight it? You and I are meant to be together, or at least to go see a movie together."

"Josh, seriously," she said, but not as forcefully as she intended. She could not help but laugh. He had begun to hum Shaggy's "Angel." He started to tickle her, causing her to explode with laughter. "Josh, Josh, do you want me to fix this or not?"

He stopped. "Then can we discuss dinner?"

"Sure."

Josh released her. "Good luck," he said, and he kissed her cheek.

She pushed him away playfully. "Right. I'll talk to you later, Romeo."

"It is the east, and Callista is the sun!"

She groaned loudly as she went to find Helga. I hope he meant dinner as in pizza, not dinner as in what people would eat at our wedding. She shuddered. I did not just think that!

Helga was in one of the rehearsal rooms playing Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata." Callie leaned against the piano. "What was all that about?"

Helga did not look up, and stared straight forward at imaginary sheet music. "What are you talking about?"

"What's going on between you and Arnold?"

She dropped her eyes to the keys. "Well, he kissed me yesterday," she said flatly and continued playing beautifully with astounding ease.

"WHAT?"

"Arnold kissed me. Or I kissed him. I don't know, it happened too fast."

Callie walked around and pushed Helga's hands down, producing a loud bang. Helga glared at her. "Do you mind? I was practicing here."

"You two kissed?"

Helga freed her hands and dropped them in her lap. "Yeah."

"W—well what happened after that?"

She snorted. "He apologized. Pure Arnold, always a gentleman. It was my fault. I shouldn't have let it get this far. You know, I almost kissed him on Friday."

"What happened Friday?"

"We went on a double date with Gerald and Phoebe, but we were alone most of the time."

"So that's what he was so happy about on Saturday," Callie muttered.

"What?"

"Uh, well, er, how was it?"

Helga sighed and a dazed look flooded over her face. "It was amazing. I'd forgotten what a great kisser he was, but this time was a hundred times better."

Callie was shocked. "Wait, you've kissed him before?"

Helga blushed. "Yeah, a couple times when we were kids. I, uh, sorta had a crush on him. A big one."

"A couple times? Were you boyfriend and girlfriend back then or what?"

"Oh, no, they weren't real. I mean, not like this." She dropped her eyes. "No, Arnold was crazy about Lila back then. Didn't even really know I existed, at least not like that." She smiled. "I was sort of his bully back in the day."

"What happened?"

"I loved him, and we were starting to become closer friends. I finally got the balls to be nice to him and show him that I did care for him. Then one day I over heard Stinky ask him if he was going to ask me out or something, we were twelve or whatever, and Arnold said that he cared for me, but he would never think of me like that. I quote, 'I mean, it's Helga. I don't think anyone could ever think of her like that.'"

Callie watched her try to keep from crying, and she noticed that she was also fighting back tears. "Does he know you heard him?"

"No, but I think Gerald saw me."

"But maybe that's changed. Helga, he cares about you so much."

"But I moved on. I'm with Jake now."

"Did you really move on?"

"Yes, but now everything's coming back, and I don't know what to do." She paused. "I just don't want to be hurt again," she whispered softly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Callie finally spoke again. "What are you going to do about Jake?"

She buried her head in her hands. "I have to tell him. The guilt would kill me, plus I would want him to tell me if he did something like this." She looked up. "I don't want to hurt him. I really do care about Jake."

"More than Arnold?"

Helga said nothing.

"Do you think Jake will forgive you?" Callie asked.

"I don't know. I wouldn't forgive me if I was him."

Callie stared at Helga. _I pray he doesn't_, she thought.

The door suddenly opened. Samson was glaring at them, clearly pissed off. "Girls," he said in a mockingly sweet tone. "It is time to rehearse the dance numbers. _Again_," he hissed sarcastically.

Callie nodded. "Right." She looked at Helga. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Sure, but I need to talk to Samson alone."

Callie smiled. "You are braver than I am." She left, flipping Samson off when she was passed him.

"What is it, Miss Pataki?" he asked coldly.

"I want to change my talent song."

He frowned. "Miss Pataki, are you aware that the preliminaries are this Saturday, meaning you would only have three days to rehearse this since there are no rehearsals on Friday?"

"I promise that I will make it perfect. I just feel that my current song is a little flat, and I should sing something a little bit more personal."

He eyed her. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"I think so."

"Well, Miss Pataki. Why don't you think it over, get the sheet music, and if you are confident this is what you want to do, then tomorrow I will give the new sheet music to the jazz musicians."

"All right." She walked back to the stage. Now I just have to find out how I feel.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

Arnold sat on his bed Indian-style as he stared at a picture of his parents and himself. He had been staring at it for the last hour and a half, since he got home from the Omni. He thoughts were blurred together, yet somehow each one cut him sharply like a knife, and even more strangely he felt numb to the pain. Numb to any emotion, just thoughts swirling in his head, cutting him with pain that he could not feel.

Someone knocked on his door, and he guessed it was his grandpa. "Come in," he called, though he would much rather be alone.

"Hey, Short Man," Grandpa chirped as he opened the door, ignoring the fact that Arnold was hardly short anymore, unless he was standing next to Stinky the Giant. "You just up here thinking?"

Arnold knew that although his grandpa could not see the photograph, he knew what it was anyways. "Yeah, I'm just trying to sort some things out."

"Well, just don't do it at the expense of your liver."

Arnold looked up, and could not help but laugh. That was how Grandpa tended to punish him for anything these days, with a simple comment that Arnold understood full and well. "Right, Grandpa. No more drinking, I promise."

"Now I don't mean never, don't put words into my mouth. Just not until you are old enough."

"Right."

"Oh, and make sure never to drink any red liquid your Grandma tries to tell you will settle your stomach. I don't know what the heck that is, but it will clear your stomach right out." He shuddered.

"Thanks, Grandpa."

"No problem, Short Man. There's some chili left downstairs, if you want anything."

"Okay."

"Right. 'Night, Arnold." He walked to the door. "Oh yeah, you have a visitor downstairs. That's what I came up here for." He scratched his head and muttered something about Grandma.

"Who is it?" He figured it was Josh coming to find out just what the heck was wrong with him.

"Oh, that little blonde girl. You know, the one that used to have that ugly eyebrow. You know, Short Man, she's not so ugly anymore. She's actually kinda of cute, in her own way."

"Well, tell her I'm not here."

"Oh, Arnold, I make it a point not to lie to pretty little blonde girls. Plus you are here, and you need to talk to her!"

Arnold stared up at his grandpa and decided that he knew a lot more about what was happening then he led on. "What does she want?"

Grandpa sighed in frustration. "Well, I might be going out on a limb here, but I think she wants to talk to you! Now you are going to stop moping and go downstairs and talk to her!"

Arnold glared at him, and groaned loudly. "Fine! I'll go talk to her!"

"It's about time you talk to someone! All you do is mope and sit in your room. You're not a hermit, Arnold," Grandpa said as they walked downstairs.

"Grandpa, if I have to talk to her, can I at least do it alone?"

"Sure, go in the living room. No one's in there. Well, except Helga," he said, suddenly cheerful again.

Arnold feared for his sanity as an old man, and went into the living room. Helga was sitting on the couch, looking rather nervous. "Hey," she said softly.

"Hello." He was surprised at how cold his voice was.

Helga was as well. She walked over to him cautiously, took a deep breath, and began talking very fast. "Look, Arnold, I'm sorry for what happened Sunday, and I am sorry for yelling and screaming and whatever else I did. I'm sorry for earlier, I am sorry for crossing the line, and I am sorry for hurting you and for risking our friendship like that. I don't want to lose you as a friend, or lose you at all."

She finished, breathing heavy, and looking like she was going to faint. He grabbed her shoulders to study her, his head suddenly clear. "Helga, it's okay. And it's not your fault. I'm to blame too."

"No, no it's my fault. I shouldn't have –"

"Shhh." He put a hand over her mouth to silence her. "It's okay. We were just caught up in the moment. It won't happen again, and it didn't mean anything," he lied.

"Of course not," she said. He did not believe her, and he did not think she believed herself, but it was going to have to do for the moment.

"Right." _Then why are we this close again?_ he thought as he stared at her.

She must have been thinking the same thing because she pulled away from him. "Well, if we are okay again, I brought a movie so that our day off won't be a total waste."

"Yeah, it's okay." He supposed that he could somehow bare this. At least it was better than all that awkwardness that had been hovering over them.

"Great." She got the movie ready, and Arnold made some popcorn and grabbed a couple sodas. "So, what are we watching?" he asked as Helga sat down beside him on the couch, but not too close to him.

"_It Happened One Night._"

The movie started, and Arnold groaned at the black and white screen. "Helga, not another old movie! I hated _Casablanca_, and now I have to watch this?"

"Arnold, be quiet. And this is nothing like _Casablanca_. _Casablanca_ is a purely romantic movie, whereas _It Happened One Night_ is a _romantic comedy._"

He glared at her. "And your point is?"

"My point is this movie is one of the best romantic comedies of all time, and one of my favorites, so shut up and enjoy it!"

He wondered why the peace offering for _him_ was _her_ favorite movie, but he decided that anything different would not be Helga. "Fine, I'll watch it as long as you stop hogging the popcorn." He grabbed the bowl from her, and they began the movie in silence.

Arnold watched in mild fascination as Ellie Andrews, a wealthy heiress, met up with Peter Warne, a recently unemployed newspaper reporter, as she flees from her father to be reunited with her husband King Westley, whom she eloped with against her father's wishes. He had to admit that the movie was interesting and funny at times (he personally liked Warne's conversation about newspapers with the bus driver), but he could not shake the fact that the mismatched couple reminded him faintly of Helga and himself. Helga would be Ellie, since she was she second heir to the beeper throne, he would be Peter with all his bad luck lately, plus he was more the common man, and Jake would be Westley, Helga's husband (boyfriend) who she is really not supposed to be with.

He watched the movie, suddenly very interested in it, except when he would glance at Helga every once in a while. She reminded him of Claudette Colbert, the actress who played Ellie. Helga was a classically beautiful girl, not flashily sexy like Lila. And Helga was like Ellie, misunderstood, but warm-hearted and amazing.

"I love that scene," Helga said suddenly, interrupting Arnold's thoughts.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because it is hilarious! And I am sure scandalous, at least back in the day."

Peter and Ellie had long since abandoned the bus and were trying to hitchhike. Peter had boasted that he could write a book on the subject, and lectured her on the different sure-fire ways to get a car to stop. However, when he tries several times, he fails to get a car to stop and pick them up. Ellie says she can do better, and does so by showing off her leg and causing a car to break quickly and pick them up.

"I guess it's funny," he said, trying not to show that he thought the scene was hilarious.

"Liar!" She threw a pillow at him. "You liked it. Anyways, that would be so much fun."

"What, flashing your leg at strangers?"

"No! I don't know, just traveling like that. No money, just your wits and a gorgeously handsome guy taking care of you. It is really romantic. I mean, he is returning her to another man even though he loves her!"

Arnold snorted. "Sounds stupid to me."

"You really need to work on your lying, Football Head." She smiled widely at him. "You would do the same thing."

"I guess." And for all my efforts, I still don't get the girl.

She returned to the movie, and he followed her lead. He watched as bad timing caused everything to unravel, and he could not help but be infatuated with it. As he watched the end, he could not help but notice a few of Peter's lines when Mr. Andrews was asking him if he loved his daughter.

Mr. Andrews: Oh, ah, do you mind if I ask you a question frankly? Do you love my daughter?

Peter: Any guy that'd fall in love with your daughter ought to have his head examined.

Mr. Andrews: That's an evasion.

Peter: She picked herself a perfect running mate: King Westley! The pill of the century! What she needs is a guy that'd take a sock at her once a day - whether it is coming to her or not. If you had half the brains you're supposed to have, you'd have done it yourself long ago.

Mr. Andrews: Do you love her?

Peter: A normal human being couldn't live under the same roof with her without going nutty. She's my idea of nothing!

Mr. Andrews: I asked you a simple question! Do you love her?

Peter: (As he departs and slams the office door.) Yes! But don't hold that against me. I'm a little screwy myself.

Arnold completely understood what Peter was going through, and he was suddenly aware of something that had been bothering him for a while. He watched as Ellie left Westley at the alter so she could marry Peter, and Helga stood up and clapped as the film ended. "Wasn't that a great movie?"

"Sure," he said, slightly evading her question.

"Now aren't you glad you watched it?"

He stared at her, and he could not stop the small smile from forming on his face. "Yes."

She returned his smile. "Me too."

They stared at each other before Helga said, "Well, I should be going. After all, we have school tomorrow, and I still need to finish some homework." She handed him his chemistry folder. "All checked."

"Thanks, but how could you still have homework? What did you do all weekend . . . . " The words died in his throat.

She cleared her throat nervously. "I think we know the answer to _that_."

He walked her to the door. "Well, good night, Helga."

"'Night, Football Head." She smiled and practically bounced down the stoop and to her car.

He took a quick shower and went to bed. It was only nine o'clock, but he was emotionally exhausted. He still was not quite sure how things were going to be with Helga now, but one thing was crystal clear.

He loved her.

A/N: Chapter 19, "Now You See Inside," is up next. Later days, I am off to read the terrible love troubles of Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy.


	19. Now You See Inside

A/N: Name change. In case anyone is confused, I am no longer Punk Rock Princess, which depresses me, because I love that song by Something Corporate (great band. I can't wait for their new album). Anyways, I have actually been thinking about changing it, and Fanficion.net's new policy (which I agree with. Everyone should have a unique name, and I did know that there was another Punk Rock Princess. I just loved the name) has pushed me into it. I don't want to be known as Punk Rock Princess2, cause that's gay (not that there's anything wrong with that . . . I also love Seinfeld). So let it be known that my new pen-name is Zero to Hero, at least for the time being, and now that I can finally change it.

Disclaimer – I do not own Hey Arnold!, but I am the very happy owner of Mest's new self titled release, including the song, "Jaded," featuring Benji Madden of Good Charlotte. Can't decide if it's better than Destination Unknown, but either way, it kicks it. Seriously, go to your local Best Buy (in my opinion the best place to by CDs,) and buy it today!

Where to Begin

Chapter 19 – Now You See Inside

Monday blended into Tuesday, Tuesday faded into Wednesday, Wednesday morphed into Thursday, and Arnold was as confused as ever. While it seemed like Monday night had ended any awkwardness between the two, one would have to be a fool to think that it was really over and past them, or believe that their life was like a thirty minute cheesy C-rate family or teen sitcom. They could function in each other's company rather well, but there were several uncomfortable silences that seemed almost unbearable. Arnold felt like he was living a charade, and he was deathly scared to show any emotion, so he tried to be stoic. At this point he would welcome the numbness he was feeling, because his feelings were tearing him apart.

However, he was not the only one who was going through their own personal hell. Helga had to greet her boyfriend's return from his great-uncle's funeral by telling him that she had kissed another boy. Jake took the news rather well under the circumstances, and forgave Helga, though the two also seemed slightly awkward around each other. It was the final nail in Arnold's coffin, and sent him reeling. Either Jake really did care about Helga and could not live without her, thus why he would not let her go and forgave her, or he was up to something. Arnold had a horrible feeling it was the latter, and Callie seemed to think so as well, but no one could talk to Helga about her love life. At the moment she was going insane and could lash out at anyone at any possible time.

In addition to that stress, the pageant was nearing go time, and no one seemed ready for it.

"Will you still love me tomorrow?" Callie belted out while Arnold checked the audio and a million other things backstage. She ran over to him after she finished her song. "Well, how do I sound?"

"You'll be in the top five if you don't bomb your interview," he said genuinely.

"I hope so. I can't believe this is almost over."

"Yeah." His eyes wondered to Helga, who was vocalizing on the floor while she studied for their history, which test the next day.

Callie put a hand on his shoulder. "I wouldn't worry too much about that. Things will work out." She left to go talk to Helga, who was the next person to practice.

_ Since when do I need to be reminded to be optimistic?_ he thought as he went to get a drink. He then went outside to try to clear his head. The stress was getting to him. After a few minutes he went back inside, not at all refreshed, more frustrated, and with a larger headache. He returned backstage as he heard Lila singing. She sounded better but still forced. He cringed. Lila seemed to hanging on to him at every chance lately. He had no idea of what he was supposed to do to get her to leave him alone without hurting her. He was developing a plan that he could tell was doomed to fail when Callie cried, "Arnold!"

He looked over at the two girls, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Callie was trying to hold up a lifeless-looking Helga. He ran over to them and impulsively took Helga into his arms and carried her out the door and away from the crowd of girls that had gathered around them. "What happened?" he cried.

"I don't know. She was fine one moment, and she fainted the next." Callie opened the door as Arnold carried Helga into the hallway and to a door to get some air. He laid her down as Callie propped the door open beside them.

"Go get some water and something for her to eat," Arnold said. Callie rushed off. He looked down at Helga. She was extremely pale, and he was suddenly aware of the dark circles under her eyes. He pulled his sweatshirt over his head and placed it under her head.

Her eyelids fluttered open. "Wow, Arnold, I didn't realize you were so buff," she muttered.

He looked down at himself. His t-shirt was a bit tight (it had been the only clean shirt lying around as he rushed to get ready this morning), but Helga had to be out of it to think he was well built. "Helga? Helga, are you awake?"

"Mmm-hmmm," she muttered lazily. She opened her eyes and smiled sweetly at him. "Hey."

He sighed and was glad she was okay.

"How did I get out into the hallway?" she asked. Her voice was softer than normal.

"You fainted backstage, and I carried you out here."

"You carried me?"

"Um, yeah." He nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

She nodded slowly. Callie returned and handed her a bottled water and several carrot sticks, the clichéd pageant food. That was all that was around. "Are you feeling all right, Hegla?" Callie asked.

She nodded as she sat up and began to eat. "Thanks, Cal. Wait, I have to practice and study!" she cried, but Arnold lightly pushed her back down. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and attentive. "Why can't I go?"

"Because you just fainted from overworking." He brushed a few stands of hair away from her face, pausing as he touched her forehead. "And it feels like you have a slight fever." He turned to Callie. "Tell Miss Sheltie and Mrs. Chadwick Helga's going home."

"Home? But I have to – "

"Go home," he interrupted, staring her down. She finally complied, and he could tell she was feeling better because a familiar scowl had returned to her face.

Callie had been watching with great interest and confusion before disappearing. "They have to be the most blind, dense, and thick headed people in the world," he heard her mumble. Helga, however, had been putting on his sweatshirt and was none the wiser. "I'm freezing."

He shut the door and sat down beside her. Surprisingly she laid her head on his shoulder. _Not this again_, he thought quickly. When they got this close it seemed like only bad things could happen (though personally he thought they were amazing, but the outcome was usually bad).

"How do you think they do it?"

"How do they do what?" he asked, trying without much success to avoid becoming completely intoxicated by her.

"Get the little boats in the bottles. I've always wondered about that. That and how do they saw the people in half and than put them back together?"

He could not help but crack up. "I have no idea."

"What happened to the Great Arnoldini?"

"Helga, that was a long time ago. And I never sawed anyone in half."

"Now that would have been cool." She sat up. "Do you ever wish you could go back to those days?"

He looked her straight in the eye. "More now than normal."

She blushed and looked away. "Can you believe it has been seven years since we were in Mr. Simmons' class?"

His thoughts rested on the seven years. Wasn't it every seven years you shed all your skin, and symbolically your old self? The thought intrigued him, and he could certainly identify with it. In many ways he was the same as he was at age nine, but in more ways he was far different. He smiled softly as Helga rambled on and on about fourth grade. It had taken him seven years to learn something that he was now sure he had felt at least a little back then. His face dropped, for it seemed that nothing but heartache was going to become of it.

Callie returned, obviously pleased at the sight in front of her, although Arnold's long face threw her slightly. "I managed to persuade both of them to let you guys go. I swear they are insane when it comes to this pageant stuff."

"Thank God," Helga said as Callie helped her up.

Arnold left to go get Helga's stuff and returned to the lobby where the two were sitting. Helga's eyes were slightly glazed over, and she seemed to be deep in thought. Callie was rambling about something or another. "You ready to go?" he asked Helga.

She nodded and said good-bye to Callie, who reluctantly went back to the stage. Helga walked ahead of Arnold, staring up at the sky. She stopped in front of the car. "Can I have my keys, please?" she asked, extending her hand.

"You are not driving home," he said as he unlocked the car and threw her stuff in the back seat.

"I beg your pardon? What the heck do you mean I'm not driving home?"

"Helga, I hardly think you are in any position to drive home."

"Than what position am I in?" she snapped.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and practically dragged her to the passenger's side and opened the door for her. "Well, in a few moments you will be sitting in the passenger's side while I drive you home."

"You are not driving my car!" she cried and tried to grab the keys from him. Unfortunately she was still fatigued, and she slumped down in his arms.

"See? Helga, please, just let me drive."

She pushed him away from her and finally got into the car. She slammed it shut herself, and he sighed as he walked to the other side and started the car. She refused to look at him as they headed home in silence because Helga refused to listen to the radio or the CD player.

"What are you looking at?" he asked after a few minutes. Helga was staring intently out the window.

"The sky."

"Oh." Another minute or two passed. "Why, may I ask?"

"It looks beautiful, don't you think?"

The sky was a deep, dark blue dotted with stars. "I suppose," he said. Helga had always been more poetic than he. She could see deeper meaning in it, while he could just see it for its beauty.

She began singing, softly and sweetly, not caring that he could hear her. She was lost in her own world and her own thoughts. "Never seen a bluer sky. Yeah I can feel it reaching out and moving closer. There's something 'bout blue. Asked myself what it's all for. You know the funny thing about it I couldn't answer. No I couldn't answer. Things have turned a deeper shade of blue, and images that may be real may be illusion. Keep flashing off and on. Free . . . wanna be free, gonna be free, and move among the stars. You know they really aren't so far. Feels so free . . Gotta know free . . . please . . . don't wake me from the dream. It's really everything it seemed. I'm so free . . . . No black and white in the blue. Everything is clearer now. Life is just a dream, you know, that's never ending. I'm ascending."

She finished as he pulled up to her house. Her song was both lovely and haunting. She turned to him, half asleep, and he wondered if she even knew she had been singing. "Home sweet home," she muttered and exited the car.

Arnold followed Helga into the house, which to no surprise was empty. She quickly ate some cold pizza. "Want some?"

He shook his head. "Don't you think you should eat something other than that?"

She shrugged. "I doubt it, since I am going to bed here pretty quick." She looked at her watch. "Eight fifty-three. A new record!"

"At least you will finally be getting some sleep."

She stuck her tongue out at him, and an uncomfortable silence followed. Their lives were now full of that. She finally clapped her hands together. "Well, Football Head, I appreciate everything you have done, but I am going to bed, so good night." She quickly took some medicine and waved as she went upstairs. Helga barely changed into her pajamas before collapsing onto her bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

Arnold peaked in at her nearly five minutes later. She was sleeping peacefully. Whatever doubts he had had about his feelings towards her had disappeared. He watched the woman he loved for a short while, then returned downstairs to wait for Mr. and Mrs. Pataki to return home. He figured he should tell them about Helga's current predicament, though it was anyone's guess how much they would care.

They returned home nearly two hours later, Big Bob's voice booming while Miriam laughed shrilly. Bob was the first to notice Arnold sitting on their couch. "What the hell are you doing here?" he snapped.

"Oh, honey, he's one of Olga's friends. Arnie, right?" Miriam asked, trying to calm her husband down, though it also seemed like she could care less.

"Helga and Arnold," he replied blandly.

"Oh, yeah, you're the weird little orphan boy. So what are you doing in my house? And where is the girl?"

Arnold felt his anger begin to boil, although he was used to the greeting from Big Bob. "_Helga's_ upstairs, and I wanted to tell you – "

"What's she doing upstairs?" he interrupted.

"She's sleeping, but she – "

"So you thought you could bum a night on our couch? Look, I ain't running a charity house here and – "

"I do live in a _house_," Arnold hissed.

"You still live in that old shack? I thought they condemned that place long ago. It hardly looks fit to live in, and that crazy old lady is enough to flatten it to the ground as is."

Arnold's hands began to shake. "Yes, I still live at Sunset Arms with my grandpa and grandma," he managed to say through gritted teeth.

"Oh, isn't that nice," Miriam said, clearly bored with the whole conversation. "What did you want to tell us about Helga, dear?"

He glared at Big Bob before addressing Miriam. "Helga fainted today at pageant practice and – "

"Oh, my poor little Helga!" she cried, but Arnold notice she did not seem to care until he mentioned the pageant. "How is she?"

"She's sleeping now, and I think she's okay besides being exhausted."

"Oh, poor girl. She must have worn herself out by trying to please us."

"Yes, I'm sure that's what it was," Arnold said sarcastically.

"Well, thank you for staying and making sure she was okay," Miriam said, hugging him. "But we can look after her now. Thank you, Arnie."

"No problem," Arnold said as he grabbed his stuff. "Good night, Mr. and Mrs. Pataki."

He was nearly out the door before Big Bob stopped him. "Look, uh, Arnie – "

"Arnold."

"Whatever. I appreciate you looking after the girl and all, but next time remember not to overstay your welcome."

For years, Arnold had been afraid of Big Bob, but now anger seemed to have turned off every other emotion in his brain. "I would hardly call looking out for Helga's best interests overstaying my welcome." He opened the door. "Good night, Mr. Pataki," he said coldly.

"Lousy orphan," Big Bob muttered as he shut the door and joined Miriam in the kitchen.

Tears filled Helga's eyes. She had seen the whole thing unfold. She ran upstairs and cried herself to sleep, wondering how she could care for two people so much and one so much more than the other.

A/N: I really need to write longer chapters. I don't know what is wrong with me lately. Chapter 20, "The Calm before the Storm," is next so stay tuned. Later days.


	20. The Calm Before the Storm

A/N: After numerous problems, I am finally back. School started last Thursday, and I am more than ready to juggle work, school, and writing, plus watching new episodes of Inuyasha (Cowboy Bebop's back, too). What a life, I swear.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold! nor do I own my own car (I think that's right. Oh well).

Where to Begin

Chapter 20 - The Calm Before the Storm

"Would you relax? You look like you are going to faint." Arnold paused awkwardly. "Again." He, Helga, Gerald, and Phoebe were at Helga's house helping her get ready for the preliminaries the next morning. They were helping her because Jake was busy with family stuff. Arnold was really beginning to question that boy. Then again, his great uncle or something had just died, so maybe it was true.

Helga was holding her stomach as she sat down beside him. Just looking at the pale girl made him feel queasy, or maybe that was the nachos he ate before he came over.

She closed her eyes. "No, I think I'm going to throw up again."

Gerald grabbed another slice of pizza. Somehow he could ignore Helga's current state and continue eating in front of her. He offered Phoebe a piece, but she seemed to feel the same as Arnold. "Obviously pepperoni pizza is not the best way to deal with nerves," she said, glaring at Gerald. "And what do you mean, 'again?'"

"I threw up this morning before school."

"And you still went?" Arnold asked.

"Only for a half day."

"Then you went to practice - "

"And I have been practicing my routines ever since. You don't have to go over everything I did today, Arnold. I already know what happened. I did live it, you know," she said dryly as she drank her water.

"I still can't believe you didn't have pageant practice the day before the prelims."

She glared at the clock. It was now 10:58. "They wanted us to get a good night's sleep."

He shook his head. "I'm glad that's going to happen."

She shrugged. "It's not like I sleep that much anyways."

"Yeah, you're like that girl in _The Ring_," Gerald said, his month half-full. He swallowed and continued. "Except you're creepier."

Helga's patience had withered away long ago, and she promptly flipped him off.

"Feisty, aren't we?" He stood up, grabbed another slice, and sat leaned in front of the glaring blond. "Tell me, Helga, are you hungry?" he asked, practically shoving the pizza in her face.

Helga, who had been eating nothing but fruit, vegetables, and fish all week, took one look at the greasy pizza and covered her mouth. "I think I'm gonna be sick!" she cried as she ran to the bathroom.

Phoebe threw a pillow at him. "What the heck did you do that for?"

He took a large bite of the pizza. "Getting revenge for years of torture from that girl."

"Do you have to do it now?"

Gerald smirked. "You know what they say: there's no time like the present."

Phoebe glared at her boyfriend. "They also say that men are idiots."

He sat down, never wanting to disappoint Phoebe, which is what he had just done. He scowled, and Arnold channel surfed until Helga returned.

"You'll pay for that, Hair Boy," she hissed, sitting next to Arnold.

Gerald shrugged. "Not like I won't get you back even worse."

"Would you two stop? Please?" Phoebe asked. "Arnold and I are sick of it."

The three looked at Arnold for confirmation. "Uh. well, though it may be entertaining at times, it's mostly just annoying."

Helga and Gerald groaned. "You fight like that with her," Gerald said, pointing at Helga.

The two exchanged glances. "We do not," they said in unison.

"That's right. It's not fighting if you are flirting," Gerald said, grabbing the last slice of pizza.

Arnold's eyes widened to the size of saucers, and Helga's face turned a strawberry color. "WE DO NOT!" they cried, immediately turning to each other. Both their faces turned deeper shades of red, and Arnold jumped up.

Phoebe elbowed Gerald. "Gerald, stop it," she hissed.

"Why? They both know it, and it beats the shit out of me why they just don't make out and get it over with."

Helga's fists clinched, and she stood up. "Get out of my house!" she cried.

"Relax, Helga, I'm doing this for your own good."

She grabbed his hand and ranked him up from the couch, surprising the hell out of him. "If you really want to help me, you will leave. Now." She dragged him to the door.

"Fine. You don't have to tell me twice." He managed to wrench his hand from her grasp. "Are you ready, Phoebe?"

"No. I'm staying here," she said from the couch.

"What? You have got to be kidding me."

"No, I'm not." She stood up. "Good night, Gerald. Helga, can I talk to you in the kitchen?"

Helga followed Phoebe, and Arnold went to the door.

"Oh, man, now look what happened. Phoebe's mad at me."

"As she should be," Arnold said darkly as they stepped outside.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Gee, I don't know, Gerald. Maybe I'm mad because of what you said about Helga and me!"

"It's true."

"So maybe it is. Hell if I know, but she doesn't need this right now."

Gerald stared directly at him. "If she only knew all the things you do for her." He patted Arnold on the shoulder. "You're pathetic, my friend."

"Why's that?"

"Because you revolve your world around a girl you can't have."

Arnold sat down on Helga's stoop. "Real pathetic, huh?"

"Yeah."

"I can't stop this, Gerald. Good Lord, I want to, but I can't."

Gerald sat down beside him. "I know."

"So what do I do?"

"Wait, I guess. I don't know. I've never chased a girl who wasn't interested in me."

Arnold glared at him. "Thanks."

"It's the truth. Anyways, if I were you I wouldn't stay too much longer. You're outnumbered by the enemy now, plus the city tournament is tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know. Helga's been trying to make me feel guilty for not being at the prelims. And what do you mean 'the enemy?'"

"Women, man. Women."

"Right." The two stood up and did their handshake that was not quite a handshake.

"Later hater," Gerald said as he walked down the steps and to his car.

"Right." Arnold went back inside.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

Helga threw an orange across her kitchen and watched it hit the refrigerator. "What the hell did he do that for?"

Phoebe sat down. "I don't know, Helga. Gerald's not always the smartest."

"That's for damn sure."

Phoebe glared at Helga.

"I'm sorry, but you can't really blame me, can you?"

"No, I guess not." Phoebe bit her lip. "But Helga, what he said was true," she said in a small voice.

Helga sighed. "I know. I am more than well aware of that." She tossed the orange up and down. "I think Arnold knows it too."

"So what are you waiting for?"

"Pheebs, I've got no idea what the heck I'm supposed to do. I have really, really strong feelings for Arnold, but I like Jake too. I don't want to hurt him, especially since he took me back."

Phoebe nodded. "That's understandable."

"And there's just so much history with Arnold." She stopped throwing the ball. "I've already been hurt, and I don't ever want to feel that pain again."

"But, Helga, things are different now."

"Are they?" she cried. "Is it really so different this time? Can you tell me, Phoebe, can you promise me that he won't hurt me again?"

Phoebe remained silent.

"See? It's too big of a risk, at least right now. I'm a mess, both emotionally and physically. Maybe my head will clear after this weekend, but who knows?"

Phoebe gave Helga a hug. "It'll be okay in the end, Helga. I can promise you that much."

"Thanks, Phoebe," Helga said, pulling away. "I know it will be. It's just hard to believe that sometimes."

"I know."

"Can I come in?" Arnold asked from the doorway after the two girls talked about the pageant preliminaries for a few minutes.

"Sure." Phoebe turned to Helga. "I have to go, but I'll see you tomorrow." She hugged Helga. "Try not to go insane, okay?"

"I'll try," Helga said, laughing.

"Good night, Arnold."

"Later, Phoebe," he said as she left.

The two remaining stared at each other, both hoping the world would end and the silence would disappear. Helga finally scoffed. "I can't believe you aren't gong to be there tomorrow!"

"And what do you expect me to do, Helga? Skip the basketball tournament?"

"Yes."

"You've got to be kidding me! Why don't' you ask Ja - " Their eyes met, and his words died in this throat. He looked away. "I mean, why don't you just . . . you should . . . oh hell, you'll be fine."

She pulled a torn piece of paper out of her pocket. "Twelve years ago," she whispered softly.

"Is that where your parents are?"

"Yeah. Olga got in at," she looked at the clock, "fifteen minutes ago."

"Will they be back on Sunday?"

"That's what they promised. I guess time will tell if they'll keep it or not." She cleared her throat. "I should probably be getting to sleep."

"Right." Arnold grabbed his stuff and walked out the door.

She leaned against the frame. "Can your head explode from excessive stress?"

He laughed. "I have no idea."

"Au revoir, Et pouvoir nous espérons que le monde la pas fin pendant la nuit." She smiled grimmly. "Mais cela ne pourrait pas être si mauvais."

"I thought you said you didn't know any French. And that would be bad."

"That's about all I know, and I guess so. See ya later."

"Au revoir," he said, and he slowly walked home. The worst month of his life was almost over, but there was just one problem.

It was not over yet.

A/N: Sorry about the incredibly short chapter. Not much to say in this one. I can't wait to get Microsoft Word back. Because of a virus, my computer lost EVERYTHING that was on it (luckily I had all my chapters on a disk), but I lost Microsoft Word, and Microsoft Works Word Processor on XP sucks. That's why there are no indents. WTF is up with that? Anyways, next chapter is "Sure shot," at least that's what I'm calling it at the time being.

Disclaimer - I don't speak French at all, so that's from a translator (www.freetranslation.com). It supposed to be, "Good night, and may we all hope that the world doesn't end during the night. But that might not be so bad." If it's wrong, I'm sorry. Do you know what else is sad? I have been writing this story for five months now, and I have only just pasted the halfway mark (I'm predicting 38 chapters at the moment). Bad, bad ,bad!! I need to write faster. Until Chapter 21, later days.


	21. Blind Spot

A/N: Update time! Finally, I MADE myself sit down and write a bit before I go to work. See, I have a bit of a problem. This year I am taking several hard and time-consuming classes, working at two different places, and I recently started my new workout program, meaning I don't have a lot of free time. However, this doesn't mean that I am abandoning "Where to Begin," it merely means that I am very busy, so don't expect updates every week. I'm shooting for every two or three weeks, which is bad, I know, but I just need to get my head on straight, both in my life and with my story. Then maybe they'll come a little sooner.

Disclaimer – I don't own Hey Arnold!.

Where to Begin

Chapter 21 – Blind Spot 

                "Damn it, damn it, damn it, shit, damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it, watch where the hell you are going! Damn it, damn it, damn it, shit, damn it, damn it."

                "Helga, please calm down! It really won't matter that we were late if we die on the way there!"

                "My driving's just fine," Helga spat. Her hands tightened their hold on the steering wheel. "I'm trying my best under the present circumstances. We're late, plus we still have to pick up the princess." Helga's eyes narrowed. "Stupid bitch," she muttered under her breath.

                Phoebe heard her anyways. "Helga, could you please not call Rhonda that," she said in a slightly scolding tone, pushing Helga's temper further.

                "Pheebes, you can shove that cock-and-bull up where the sun doesn't shine. You don't like her that much either."

                "Helga, Rhonda's done a lot for you for this pageant."

                "No, Mr. Lloyd's wallet has done a lot for me. Rhonda's just there to use the pretty card," she finished in a voice that eerily sounded exactly like Rhoda when she was excited about buying a new designer season wardrobe. "You trying being her little Barbie doll."

                Phoebe raised her eyebrows. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen you were any of the clothes she bought you since the week after you got them."

                "Let's just say I helped both myself and someone else."

                "What did you do?" Phoebe asked slowly.

                "Gave them to a church. I didn't want them, and I don't want to owe Rhonda Wellington Lloyd any more than I have to. Even if we sorta had a deal, that's far too much money. She can do my hair and makeup, but that's all."

                Phoebe understood, and said nothing. Helga may come off as ungrateful, but it was really just a matter of pride, which was something that Helga had a lot of.

                Helga pulled up in front of Rhonda's house, narrowly missing a parked Mercedes. She pounded on the horn, and after a minute of continuous, loud, annoying sound, Rhonda emerged from the house. Helga stopped, but when Rhonda took her sweet time down the stoop, Helga pressed on the horn again and did not let go. The dark haired girl ran to the car and flung the door open. "Helga G. Pataki! How dare you—"

                "You know, Rhonda, I was about to say the same thing," Helga interrupted loudly.

                "Girls! The pageant!" Phoebe cried.

                Helga and Rhonda stared at her for a moment before registering what she had said. Rhonda jumped in the car, and Helga sped off, this time pulling out in front of a corvette.

                "Would you watch it? I might know those people!" Rhonda cried.

                "Rhonda, anyone who is stupid enough to drive with the top down in the middle of February in Washington is asking to be hit. I'd probably be doing them a favor."

                "Helga, just drive," Phoebe hissed, but Rhonda was not done.

                "Where the hell have you been? I've been waiting for forty-five minutes. _Forty-five minutes!_ Helga, I've got a lot of stuff I need to get done and I don't have time for you to waste it!"

                "_I'm_ wasting _your _time? Last time I checked _I_ was the one in the pageant, but I could be wrong!"

                 "Helga, we're about five blocks away from the Women's Club, so just _drive_. Rhonda and I are here to help, so please stop jumping down our throats. It's not our fault you accidentally slept in, and may I remind you, if it wasn't for me calling you to ask what was wrong, you'd have bigger problems. And Rhonda, you are here just to _help_. Helga's got enough to worry about without you bitching at her. Just remember your deal."

                Helga looked in the rearview mirror, her eyes locking with Rhonda's. They had a mission to beat Lila, and after all the work she had put into this, there was no way that was not going to happen.

                Helga pulled into the parking lot of the Women's Club. A large sign near the entrance read:

Hillwood City Women's Club

February 22, 2003

Miss Hillwood Pageant Brunch – 9:30 AM

Miss Hillwood Pageant Preliminary Round – Noon

Good luck to all participants.

Remember: Everyone is a winner.

                Helga glared at the sign before glaring at the clock in her car. It was 10:15. She muttered one last swear word, put the car in park, and jumped out of the car. Phoebe and Rhonda were grabbing all her stuff. "How do I look?" she asked as they began to run to the door.

                "Helga! There's no time for that! RUN!" Phoebe cried.

                Helga sprinted to the building and did not slow down until she reached the door of the Meredith Merewether Dining Hall, receiving many glares and shocked looks along the way. She smoothed her skirt, and walked into the hall. Everyone was eating, not too quietly either, much to Helga's surprise. Four round tables were placed near each other, and a large rectangular table was at the front of the room. Five girls sat at each table, and officers of the Women's Club, organizers of the pageant, and the ten judges sat at the high table. Helga spotted the rest of the girls in her group and walked towards the table, sneaking around by hiding behind one of the waiters.

                "Helga, where have you been?" Sabrina Verducci asked as Helga sat down between her and Callie.

                "We saved you some breakfast," Charlotte Amonte said, handing her a muffin and a thin slice of cantaloupe.

                "Yeah, where the hell have you been?" Callie asked, stuffing a fist-full of grapes in her mouth. Sabrina shot her a look, but said nothing.

                "We were so worried you wouldn't make it," Mackenzie DiMauro said sweetly.

                "I slept in." She took a sip of the orange juice in front of her. "I know, I know. Out of all the days, it had to be today."

                Sabrina let out a snort of laughter. The other girls stared at her in disbelief. "What the heck is that for? It's not funny," Callie snapped.

                Sabrina shook her head. "No, no it's horrible. I'm just thinking about the _Seinfeld_ episode with Jean-Paul."

                Helga smiled, suddenly feeling a lot better. "I remember that one. It was a good one."

                The rest of the girls lightened up, and they spent the rest of brunch talking about _Seinfeld _(The girls could not believe Charlotte had never seen the show). After about fifteen minutes, Mrs. Chadwick approached the microphone at the center of the main table, and she began a long, boring speech about how they should not be nervous, how it was an honor just to represent their school, and she end by saying that no matter what, everyone here was a winner.

                "Yeah, accept the one who actually wins is the winniest winner." Mackenzie muttered.

                "That's not even a word," Charlotte giggled.

                "I should use it in my interview. I can just see it now:  _Very creative answers, but she has a tendency to make up words. After the pageant, make sure her mental health is examined very closely. If she is found completely insane, make sure to make her a key role in planning the next fifteen pageants._"

                The other four girls laughed. "Yep, that about sums it up," Callie said.

                Mrs. Chadwick clapped her hands. "Okay girls, it's time to get ready. You have an hour to prepare. Remember, the order is interview, eveningwear, and talent. Good luck to all, and may the best young lady win."

                The girls piled out of the hall and walked to the Blue Room where twenty makeup tables were set up for the girls. Dresses were everywhere. Helga found Rhonda and Phoebe beside a girl who looked exactly like Callie, except she had blonde hair.

                "Oh, Helga, this is my sis, Renna," Callie said, sitting down in front of her sister.

                 "Hi," Helga said. She sat down, and Rhonda quickly started on her hair. "Interview's first."

                "Gotcha."

                "So, what did I miss?" Helga asked Callie, whose hair was being rolled in curlers.

                "Chadwick's big speech, which was basically what she said when you were there, only twice as long and boring. Anyways, interviews are first. We're supposed to meet in the ballroom at five to noon. A member of the Women's Club will escort us to the judges who are in the—in the—well, they're in a room of some color. I want to say plum, but I know that's wrong. At least I think it is . . . ."

                "Callie, focus."

                "Right. Well, after that, we are escorted back to the dressing room so we can't talk about the questions with the girls who haven't gone yet. Then we have the evening gown competition, where we'll prance around in poofy dresses in front of the judges. That's in the ballroom, and after that we get ready for the talent competition, which is also in the ballroom. Then the horrible day is done, and we get to go home and wait for tomorrow when we might have to do it all over again, but next time in front of thousands of people."

                "Great," Helga said. She began to zone out as Phoebe reviewed possible interview questions with her. Helga answered without putting much thought into it (she was making sure Rhonda would not poke her in the eye with the eyelash curler). Phoebe yelled at her, and Helga put a little effort into it, but she was still worried about the curling iron in Rhonda's hand.

                Nearly an hour later, Helga was waiting for her name to be called. She was prim, pressed, and feeling like a china doll. She had the unfortunate task of sitting beside Lila, who looked rather pale and was fidgeting.

                Helga was beginning to feel nervous herself. She had been rushing the whole morning, so she had not noticed the millions of butterflies swirling in her stomach. Just as a wave of nausea was about to sweep over her, a thin woman entered the room and said, "Miss Helga Pataki of West Hillwood High."

                Somehow Helga stood up, her knees barely supporting her. She was about to try to step forward when a voice echoed, as if in a long tunnel, "Good luck."

                Helga turned around and looked down. "To you as well," she said to Lila. "And may the best girl win."

                Lila's eyes narrowed, and Helga walked towards the woman. She smiled. "Relax, dear, you will do fine."

                Helga nodded, and was surprised her brain was still giving commands. It felt like it had turned completely off. They stopped in front of a door. "Inside here, dear, and good luck."

                Helga swallowed hard. _This it. The beginning of the end_, she thought.  She took a deep breath, exhaled, and walked into the room, ready for anything.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                "And the final score is West Hillwood sixty-seven, Bishop Chatard sixty-two. West Hillwood will play the winner of the next game, and the winner of that game will be in the championship game against the winner from the east bracket."

                Arnold took a large drink of water and wiped his forehead with a towel. It seemed like they had been playing for nearly five straight hours. Their first game had started at ten, and it was now nearly three. They had only played two games thus far, but they were both close, exhausting games that he barely came out alive from. He glanced at his right shoulder.  A long, deep cut stared back at him, still bleeding and causing him pain. He winced as the trainer cleaned it and wrapped it with bandages. "There. Good as new." He said, practically shoving Arnold out of the chair he had been sitting in so he could deal with the rest of the West Hillwood team.

                He wondered around until he found Gerald sitting at table full of food in one of St. Vincent's hospitality rooms (St. Vincent was the largest school in the state and was a perfect place to hold the annual tournament since it had four large gyms and numerous smaller gyms, training rooms, and locker rooms). Arnold sat down beside Gerald, slapping his ankle lightly.

                "OW! Damn it, what are ya doing?"

                "So the ice isn't numbing it?"

                "I don't want to loose feeling in my foot, Arnold. I just need the swelling to go down."

                "I can't believe you twisted your ankle."

                "I probably sprained it." Gerald pulled the pack of ice off his ankle to reveal a swollen mass of blue and black flesh. "Hurts like hell, I can tell you that."

                Arnold grimaced. It was a nasty sight, and he did not even want to know how much pain Gerald was really in.

                "I talked to Phoebe."

                "Oh?" Arnold asked, trying his best to sound uninterested although he was dying to know how Helga was doing.

                "Uh-huh. She said Helga just has to sing yet, and she's doing fine."

                "That's nice. Did she say anything about Callie?"

                Gerald gave him a weird look. "No, she didn't. Why do you want to know how Callie's doing?"

                "Because Callie's my friend, just like Helga is. _My friend_," he hinted.

                "Whatever. At least Jake seems to have shut up since you and Helga made out." Gerald shoved a bunch of grapes in his mouth. Gerald's leg could be cut off, and he would still want to stuff his face with anything that was edible.

                "Helga and I didn't make out!" Arnold cried, color rising to his cheeks.

                "Well, whatever you did, thanks. That guy's been somewhat bearable this week."

                _Speak for yourself,_ Arnold thought. Every bit of bad blood between him and Jake was getting worse everyday. He was half expecting Jake to hire someone to eliminate him sometime in early March.

                "For you, maybe," another voice said. Chris Vetter, a short sophomore who had a killer three point shot sat down beside him. Though Chris was practically third string in Jake's position, Jake made the boy's life hell out of fear that Chris would take his spot. "I don't think he'll ever lighten up on me." He looked at Gerald's ankle with a concerned face. "How's the ankle?"

                Gerald shrugged, though he clearly liked all the attention (another one of the player's moms just brought him another plate full of fruit). "I don't know. I'm supposed to ice it for another ten minutes, then I'll see if I can walk on it."

                Chris nodded and asked Arnold, "How's the shoulder?"

                "Fine."

                "Right, the only thing wrong with him is he's got a broken heart."

                Arnold stomped on Gerald's good foot, causing the boy to yelp in pain.

                Chris, however, looked horrified. "What did you just say?"

                "Nothing. He said nothing," Arnold quickly replied.

                "Chris, you know that Jake treats one person on our team worse than you, right?"

                "Yeah. Arnold," he said, biting nearly half of his sandwich and chewing loudly.

                "Do you know why?"

                "Gerald, he doesn't need to know!" Arnold was glaring at Gerald, who was completely unphased by Arnold's protests.

                "Uh, no, not really. I just noticed it's been really bad lately."

                "Do you know who Jake's going out with?" Gerald asked Chris, his dark eyes dancing.

                Arnold was about to strangle Gerald. "Shut up!" he muttered.

                "What? He should know."

                "You're going to tell everyone now?" Arnold cried.

                "No, just people I like. Which is a lot of people, granted, but what can you do?"

                "Shut up."

                Gerald shook his head. "Nah, that's no fun. Anyways, do you know who Jake's going out with?"

                "Uh, that really cute blonde. Helga Pataki, or something like that." Chris was watching them intently now.

                "Right, Well, Arnold's been trying to steal her away from Jake. –"

                "I have not!" Arnold yelled.

                "Sure. Well, she actually likes Arnold better than Jake, and Jake knows this, everyone does, but she won't break up with Jake."

                "Sounds like a messed up chick," Chris said.

                "Oh, she is. Anyways, that's way Jake hates Arnold. That and Arnold got to second base with Helga while Jake was out of town."

                Chris whistled. "Wow. No wonder he hates you."

                "I didn't get to second base with Helga! I just kissed her!"

                "Tongue?" Chris asked.

                "A – a little, but –"

                "But I bet you wanted to get to second base with Helga," Chris said, taking a drink of his water.

                "Well, yeah, I guess, but _I didn't do it!_"

                Both laughed at him. "At least you're honest, Arnold," Gerald said, pulling up his ice pack to look at his ankle again. "This is really nasty."

                Coach walked into the room. "Let's go, we need to get ready. We play Concordia next. Johannsen, can you play on that?"

                "I think so," Gerald gingerly tried to put weight on his ankle, and he was barely able to keep his balance. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

                "Great. Now let's hustle. C'mon, c'mon, c'mon."

                Chris got up and dragged himself across the room. Arnold turned to Gerald. "You can't play on that."             

                "Yeah, I can."

                "Gerald, you can barely stand, let alone walk and run and jump. You can't play."

                "Arnold, relax. If it starts to hurt too badly, I'll just tell coach, and I'll come out. It's no big deal."

                Arnold's eyes narrowed. "And why did you tell Chris all that stuff?"

                Gerald had the decency to look shameful. "Sorry 'bout that. I got a bit carried away. I was bored."

                "Well, I'm glad you could use my failing love life for your entertainment."

                "Arnold, relax and just worry about the game, okay?"

                "Sure."

                Two other players helped Gerald to the locker room while Arnold cleaned up their mess. As he looked up from the trashcan, he noticed that one player still remained with him. Jake was leaning up against the door looking at Arnold as if he would like nothing more in the world than to see Arnold in extreme pain. Arnold met his eyes, and the two silently watched each other. After a few moments, Jake broke his gaze and turned and left, but Arnold had a very bad feeling he had heard everything Gerald said. And that was a very bad thing.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                "Very good, Miss Pataki. Thank you, and we will see you tomorrow night."

                "Thank you," Helga replied, her voice faintly hoarse from singing, and curtseyed slightly to the judges, surprised at herself. She was escorted back to the dressing area by the same woman, who kept talking about Helga's voice. Helga liked the compliments, but only to a certain point. After a while it was just creepy.

                Phoebe and Rhonda were waiting for her. "How did you do?" they asked together.

                "All right, I guess." She sighed. "Where's Callie?"

                "She and her sister had to go to their parents' banquet. She said she's sorry she couldn't say longer to see how you did, but she'll talk to you tomorrow," Rhonda said.

                "Oh," Helga said, slipping out of her dress and into a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt. "Well, I don't have to be here any longer, so do you want to go?"

                "Yes," Rhonda said excitedly. "These girls are getting on my nerves." She looked distastefully at several of the girls across the room.

                Phoebe looked very concerned. "Helga, are you sure things went okay?"

                "Yeah, I'm just tired. That's all."

                Phoebe nodded, and Rhonda tapped her toes, clearly sick of waiting. Helga sighed again. "Let's go then."

                Helga drove Rhonda home and then she and Phoebe continued on to St. Vincent High School, hoping that the boys were in the final game of the tournament. Phoebe tried to find the game on the radio, but the station said they were having technical difficulties. Helga drove just like she had earlier in the day, and she pulled into the parking lot as many were pulling out. The two girls popped out of the car and ran towards the door.

                "Excuse me," Phoebe asked an older man as he walked towards them. "What's happening in the tournament?"

                Helga noticed his East Hillwood High sweatshirt and gloomy face, and it took every ounce of self-control not to smile. Clearly someone had beaten East Hillwood, the team that was considered not only the best in the city, but also one of the best teams in the state.

                "West Hillwood just beat East Hillwood, 50 – 49. Some little scrawny kid made two foul shots just before the buzzer rang. It was horrible."

                Helga and Phoebe exchanged excited glances. "Thank you very much!" they cried as they ran to the gym.

                The gym was packed with fans and students from West Hillwood watching the players cut down the net. The little boy Helga recognized as Chris Vetter, and the person she assumed made the last shots, was currently up on the ladder. Phoebe ran towards the injured Gerald, but Helga just stayed put, trying to take it all in.

                Arnold was talking to Ryan O'Brien when he saw Helga. "Uh, I got to go, Ryan," he said with a big smile across his face as he started to run towards Helga. He could not wait for her to tell him how the prelims went.

                He was half way to her when he slowed down, wondering how smart it was to talk to Helga when Jake wanted to kill him. _What am I thinking? Screw Jake!_  He began again to run to her, but he was within ten feet when Jake scooped her up and swung her around. Arnold watched in horror as Jake looked like the perfect boyfriend, completely interested in her day even after he just won one of the biggest tournaments of the year.

                Arnold sighed and returned to his teammates. Everything had seemed perfect; they had gotten East Hillwood back and he played great all day. Now all that was washed away. It did not seem as important if he could not even get close to Helga and share it with her. He looked for anything, _anything_ to take his mind of his current pain, but he could not push it back in his mind. He was forced to deal with it himself, and he suddenly felt very alone.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                "Lord, I have been waiting for this all day," Arnold muttered to himself several hours later as he flopped down on a couch. The team and many other students from West Hillwood were celebrating the boys' win at Matt Harrington's house. Mrs. Harrington, who was a member of the Hillwood City Women's Club, was a notorious cook, and Arnold was ready to take advantage of that with a plate full of food.

                "Mind if I sit with you?" a quiet, sweet voice asked.

                Arnold looked up from his plate. Lila was beside the couch looking down at him. He was not the least bit surprised; Lila had been practically clinging to him at school the past week, but she seemed genuinely happy to see him, and a little shy. "Sure," he said, more out of curiosity than the desire of her company.

                She sat down, her blue eyes glittering. "So, you guys had a pretty amazing day," she said as she gently placed her napkin on her lap.

                "I'd say so," he said, taking a bite of his chicken sandwich. "Can you believe we won the whole tournament? City Champs. Sounds pretty good, doesn't it?"

                Lila laughed. "Hell ya!" she cried. She smiled widely and regained her normal composure. "And of course I can believe it. You guys deserve it."

                Arnold shrugged, but he was happy all the same. "How were the prelims?"

                Her face fell slightly. "All right, I guess. I didn't do as good as I hoped, but I still think I did okay." She lowered her gaze. "Helga did well."

                Arnold blushed faintly. "I didn't ask that," though that was exactly what he had been wondering.

                Lila's eyes widened slightly. "Oh, I just figured . . . ." Her words trail off into nothingness.

                They sat like this for a couple of minutes, both feeling awkward, but Arnold was mostly confused. Lately Lila had wanted to rub it in at every opportunity that Helga was dating Jake, but now she did not want to talk about Helga . . . did that mean Helga did well?

                "Are you ready for tomorrow?" she asked.

                He turned his attention back to her. She seemed to have lost all of her swagger that usually surrounded her; her eyes were wide and seemed to be anxiously awaiting even the slightest comment from him. "Sure, I guess. I'd be more nervous if I was in your shoes." He paused, "But then I guess I'd have a lot more problems then just that."

                Slivery laughter filled the air. It was not as genuine or as sweet as Helga's (which was actually loud and boisterous, but it was unique to her, and Arnold considered it one of the greatest sounds in the world), but it was nice all the same. "I'd say so," she replied, taking another bite of her sandwich. "I guess since I went through it today I won't be so stressed tomorrow. Not that I'll be as cool as a cucumber." She clasped a hand to her mouth. "I can't believe I just said something so dumb!"

                Arnold laughed. "Personally I like as cool as the other side of the pillow, but it's just a personal preference."

                They both continued to laugh. Arnold was in disbelief. He had not enjoyed being with Lila this much for a long time. She was acting like herself, an older version of that little girl he had liked so much in elementary school . . . pretty, sweet, everything he had ever imagined in the perfect woman . . . .

                _Wait, did I just think that?_ he thought. His gaze shifted from the pretty girl beside him to the pretty girl across the room. Helga was sitting on the floor beside Jake watching him play Playstation 2. She looked bored out of her mind . . . or was she upset?

                 He shook his head to jar any thoughts. Helga's blank expression made it nearly impossible to tell exactly what she was thinking. Helga usually wore her emotions right on her sleeve, but even then they could be the opposite of what she was really thinking. An innocent soul trapped in an enigma . . . such a strange yet beautiful entity.

                "Hurts, doesn't it?" Lila asked, her words cutting cleanly through his thoughts.

                Arnold faced her. Her voice had been perfectly flat, without even a bit of sarcasm, or any emotion at all. She was not making fun of him. He was speechless. He was afraid to confide in her, but the look on her face looked like she was going through the same thing. "Yeah, it does," she said finally, not closing the door, but not shutting it either. "Like hell."

                She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I honestly think that is the hardest place to be; loving something that doesn't, can't, or refuses to return those feelings." She played with her jello as if she was not even paying attention to her own words.

                However, one of her words stuck out. "What?" he cried. "I don't—I—," he dumbly tried to defended himself.

                "Arnold, it's pretty obvious. You usually don't show that much emotion, so your feelings for Helga must be strong if I can notice them."

                He said nothing, for everything she had just said was true. He scooted the rest of his pea salad around his plate.

                "Don't worry. You're not the only one."

                "Who—"

                "No one important," she answered, smiling slightly.

                "Yet someone so important you would change everything just to make them happy," he finished. It was nice to finally talk to someone who actually understood. Gerald was head over heels for Phoebe, and she felt the same way. Josh was in a similar boat as Arnold with Callie, but he never took anything too serious, so it was practically useless to divulge in him. However, as good as it felt to get this off his chest, he wished he were talking to someone other than Lila. It was still a little weird.

                "Hmmm," she muttered, and they sat in silence before they both muttered, "Ain't that the bitch?"

                Lila laughed, and Arnold could not help but do the same.

                "So, things went well today?" he asked, changing the subject to spare both of them the agony of talking about their failing love lives.

                "I guess." She picked at her food, her face scrunched up as if she was trying very hard to keep something to herself. "I just—I just don't' know if I deserve it."

                Arnold stopped chewing and stared carefully at her. "What are you talking about?"

                She took a deep breath to collect her thoughts and to control her emotions. "I know that a lot of people think that the only reason I'm in this thing is because my stepmom's in the Women's Club."

                "That's not true," Arnold said a little to quickly to be convincing. He felt horrible since he had thought the same thing.

                "Sure it's not," she said, shaking her head slightly and rolling her eyes. "I'm well aware of what everyone thinks of me," she said, defiantly looking straight into his eyes.

                _Meaning you know how I feel,_ he thought. He had to admit that though his opinion of her was higher than that of many of his peers, but Arnold still did not think that much of Lila. After everything the girl had put him through, he did not blame himself for feeling the way he did.

                She tore her eyes away from his when he did not respond. "The truth is, I'm not that bad, at least not anymore."

                "I know that, and Lila, no body believes everything they hear."

                She scoffed. "Arnold, please. _You_ don't because you are a decent person. Not everyone is like you." She looked back at him. "I just wish everyone would get over all that, and see that I have changed, that I am a better person now."

                Again, he did not know what to say. At times this was true, but he could also remember specific times that Lila acted in the manner that everyone expected her to. He finally found his voice. "Lila, you shouldn't can so much about what other people think of you."

                "I don't. There are very few people who I actually hold their opinion in high regard. I just get tired of dealing with everything, you know?"

                "Yeah," he said dumbly.

                She smiled and stood up. "Well, I'm going to go home and get some beauty sleep." Her smiled widened. "And yet another cliché."  Lila winked at him. "See ya, Arnold."

                "Bye."

                She started to leave, but turned around to face him again. "And Arnold?

                "Yeah?"

                "Thanks for everything."

                "Uh, no problem." He had not been expecting that.

                "Later, Arnold."

                "Good night, Lila."

                He watched her as she said good-bye to everyone. He noticed that most people were just being polite and would immediately talk about her as soon as she left. It had to be hard, but she put herself in that situation. Then again, most people did not even try to get to know her.

                He shook his head. Feeling sorry for both Lila and himself was giving him a royal headache. He roamed around the house, talking to various people about nothing at all. He was talking to Matt when a couple in the living room caught his eye. Jake was stoking Helga's hair and talking to her softly. Arnold's eyes blazed. "Excuse me, Matt," he said curtly, and stormed off. Matt was confused by Arnold's sudden mood change, but he found more interesting people to talk to, and Arnold was quickly removed from his mind.

                Arnold managed to find Gerald in the mess of people. He was sitting with his ankle propped up, and Phoebe was tucked under his arm, and they both looked like they were having the time of their lives. _That must be nice_, he thought angrily.

                "Arnold? Where have you been, man? We were just talking about you!" he cried loudly.

                "Really?" he said blandly.

                "Yeah, I's just saying to Phoebe, 'where's Arnold? 'E really needs to let loose and 'ave a goot time.'" He stopped, and sputtered. "I's just said a goot. A goot, Arnold! I'm Canadian!"

                Arnold just stared at Gerald, who was clearly drunk, and judging by Phoebe's expression, she was as well, though most likely not as much as Gerald. "That's nice."

                "Aw, lighten up, Arnold. You're way too uptight. You gots to live a little, Football Head. Today's a happy day!"

                Arnold's eyes narrowed. Gerald never, _never_ called him that. Helga was the only one who did, and the last thing he needed was to be reminded of Helga's nickname for him. "Right. Real happy day." That emotion was long gone. "I just came over to tell you that I'm leaving."

                "Leaving? So soon?" Phoebe asked.

                "Yeah. I figure I have a lot of stuff to get done for tomorrow, and I should probably get some sleep. It'll be a very long day."

                Phoebe nodded, but Gerald shouted, "PARTY POOPER!"

                Several people around them laughed. Gerald beamed at the attention.

                "Right." Arnold snapped. "Well, good-bye."

                They said good-bye, and Gerald and Phoebe spotted Matt, leaving without a second thought to Arnold.

                He growled in frustration, and as he left a disturbing thought came to the surface:  The only one who had paid much attention to him was Lila.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                Helga closed her eyes for a moment, and slowly opened them. She was tired and very stressed, though Jake playing with her hair was very calming. She was sitting on the floor while he lay on the couch behind her. She leaned back closer to him, loving the attention. He was talking to her about everything accept her parents, basketball, and the pageant. He was currently on topic #246, Martians. Jake seemed to believe in aliens (she was not quite sure if he was joking or not) and explained abductions by comparing them to fishing. ("When we catch a fish, sometimes we don't throw it back right away. We may just keep it as a pet. Well, what if all that fish's fish friends assume that he's dead, since that's what we do when people are missing for a long time. He's really not dead, he's  just a pet. Well, what if the Martians are just keeping us as pets?")

                "Do you honestly believe that?"

                He tugged her hair affectionately. "Naw, I stole it from Comedy Central."

                She laughed lightly and turned around to face him.

                He brushed the hair out of her face. "How did I get lucky enough to be with somebody so beautiful?"

                She blushed deeply as he kissed her nose. 

                "You're going to hate me, but I have to ask."

                "What's that?"

                "Did things really go that well today?"

                She bit her lip. "Well, I was late, but other than that, it went well. Really well, actually, but I'm not expecting anything."

                He smiled. "I can't wait to watch you tomorrow." His expression became very serious. "Are your parents going to be back?"

                Helga's face fell. "I hope so," she said softly.

                "I'm sure they wouldn't miss it for the world."

                She put a little smile on her face for his sake, but she did not feel so optimistic. Yes, her parents had been obsessing about the pageant since she told them she was in it, but they had said very little about it after they learned Olga was coming to Seattle. Suddenly it was not as important, just like everything else that had to with Helga whenever Olga came into the picture . . . .

                "Helga?"

                Jake had noticed her mood change. "Oh, sorry. I just can't wait for Monday."

                He laughed. "Wow. You're actually looking forward to a Monday." He grinned. "I don't blame you. You've pushed yourself to the braking point stressing about everything. I'm still not sure how you've gotten through all this. You need to teach me whatever your secret is. I freak out if I have a quiz in accounting, and that class is ridiculously easy."

                "To be honest, I have no idea either." One name tried to push its way up to the service of her thoughts, but she refused to think about him.

                "Well, from now until the pageant, you just need to relax," he said softly as he gently pressed his lips against hers. Chills ran down her spine. He pulled away, much to her displeasure. "You just need to enjoy everything. Enjoy the night."

                She was suddenly very nervous as he kissed her again. "Uh, Jake, um—"

                He leaned his forehead against hers. "Helga, I wasn't implying that. I just mean you shouldn't think too much about anything. Just live."

                She blushed deeply. "I know. I was just making sure," she said softly. His ambiguous words did not comfort her at all. 

                He looked down at her perplexed face and laughed lightly. "C'mon, I'll take you home. You look like you need to sleep."

                She pretended to look offended. "Excuse me? What's wrong with how I look?"

                "You look amazing. Tired, beautiful, and slightly pissed off. It's a look you pull off very well."

                She laughed. "I'm not so sure about the beautiful and amazing part, but everything else fits very well."

                "Hmmm, well, I think the second part sums you up the best." He kissed her again. "C'mon, let's go. You really do need to get to sleep."

                She sighed. "What would I do without you?"

                The question seemed to bother him greatly. He was silent as he stood up and helped her to her feet. "I'm sure you would manage," he said coldly.

                Helga stared at him. His sudden mood change was not characteristic of Jake; it was something she would do.

                He grinned at her change of expression. "Just not as well," he finished.

                She smiled slightly as they left. Jake watched her like a hawk on the way to her house to make sure that she was happy and in a good mood at all times. She had to admit it was great to get all the attention but still . . . it felt hollow.

                Jake left soon after they reached her house, and she missed him. Jake had been very supportive over the past week, even after . . . Helga refused to think about it. It only brought more pain, and she did not need anymore at that. She sighed. _Why is it even when things go well, I still get that horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that makes me feel like bawling my eyes out? _ she thought as she pulled the covers over her head. The preliminaries went very well, and she was very confident about tomorrow, but the feeling remained the same.

                Something seemed to be missing the entire day, and she knew what that was. She had not talked to Arnold all day. He seemed to be avoiding her. _That's probably best,_ she thought sadly.__

                Helga closed her eyes. It was all almost over. Tomorrow was the last day for the pageant, but all her problems would still remain. "And I still have no idea what to do," she said to the dark room as she fell asleep. _No idea whatsoever._

A/N: I changed the name of this chapter. I felt it suited it better. Anyways, I'll update as soon as I can. Later days.


	22. Almost There, Going Nowhere

A/N: Okay, let's see if I remember how to do this….haha, just joking. I'd like to take a few seconds to sincerely apologize for the long space between this chapter and the last (nearly two months)….let's just say Miss Emily bit off a little bit more than she can chew. So, after many, MANY emotional, mental, and physical draining weeks (including a couple breakdowns, I just haven't been too happy lately), I have decided that the only thing I can do is try to make myself happy and others happy. I can and will make time in my life for those who give me happiness and things that make me happy. This includes writing, which apparently makes you all happy. Life is too long to focus on your own personal hells, and I have missed out on too many good moments. It's all changing, and I've got a whole new outlook on how I'm going about EVERYTHING. 

In short, I'll be busting my butt to update regularly because I love to write and I love it when you guys review, be good or bad (though I prefer good ^_~). Thank you to everyone who has reviewed up to this point and to everyone who has been reading and I promise you I will finish this fic no matter what.

Disclaimer – I do not own Hey Arnold! 

Where to Begin

Chapter 22 – Almost There, Going Nowhere

                Helga drummed her fingers on the armrest to Air Supply's "All out of Love," as she read an old issue of _Time_. She did not know where she was, why she was here, or how she had gotten here. All she knew was that she was in a very white room: white walls, white title floors, white chairs. Everyone was dressed in white, except she was wearing a long, red dress. It looked similar to a waiting room in a doctor's office. A rather large, masculine-looking woman sat at the receptionist desk, and a handful of people were scattered around the room, including a man sitting two chairs from her who was eating checkers.

                She tried to ignore him. She turned her attention from him and spotted a little blond boy sitting across the room with an elderly couple, whom she guessed were his grandparents. The couple looked rather sad, but they were smiling for the little boy's sake as he played with a toy airplane. The boy spun around in circles until he was so dizzy he fell, sending the plane into flight.

                Helga watched as the airplane landed at the feet of a little girl sitting by herself. Helga could not stifle her gasp as she stared at the dark eyes, pale skin, and long, blond hair of the little girl. She was wearing a white jumper similar to the pink one Helga had worn religiously when she was younger. It hung loosely on the girl's tiny frame, and Helga's eyes widened in horror as she noticed the girl's arms. They were covered in large, purple bruises. Her eyes were puffy as though she had been crying. Helga's heart broke as she watched her pick up the plane.

                The boy ran over to her. Calmly the little girl asked him, "Is this yours?"

                The boy nodded and took the plane from her. "Where are your parents?"

                The girl's eyes weld up with tears. "I'm here alone."

                The boy tilted his head, and his young face filled with concern. "Why are you here alone?"

                Pain flashed upon her little face, but she gathered all her strength and said smoothly, "I always come alone."

                "Oh," the boy said, clearly not focusing on her pain, although Helga knew that he was well aware it was there and tearing up her insides. "I'm here with my grandparents. Grandma's got a routine check-up, and Grandpa's here to keep her in line and make sure she doesn't do anything crazy. I'm here for the lollipops they give me."

                The little nodded as fresh tears ran down her face. The little boy climbed up into the seat beside her. He put his tiny arm around her shoulders and waited for her to calm down. "Why are you crying?"

                She said nothing and refused to look at him. She seemed uncomfortable, as though no one had ever tried to console her in her entire young life.

                "Are you scared?" he asked.

                She nodded.

                He smiled. "Well, that's easy to fix. I'll go with you."

                She looked up at him, clearly confused. "Why'd you wanna do that?"

                "Because it's not so scary when you have someone beside you. Besides, if we go together we'll be sure to get lollipops!"

                She smiled, and Helga could tell it was a rarity for the girl.

                "Helga Pataki!" The receptionist cried. "It's time to go!"

                Helga stood up and walked to the white door beside the desk. "Were am I going?"

                She stared at her. "Why, Helga, you are going to be cleansed. Just look at your hands!"

                Helga looked at her palms. They were covered in blood that dripped onto the white floor. "What –?" But how?" she cried.

                "Go, you must meet your fate!"

                "No! I want to watch what happens to them!"

                "Go, Helga. Face your fate!" she shouted as she shoved Helga through the door.

                "Wait! Don't make me go alone!"

                The door slammed shut, and Helga was surrounded by blackness. She looked all around, but all she could see was darkness. She could faintly hear a bell ringing in the distance. She walked forward, and the sound grew louder. She kept moving until she saw a faint white light in front of her feet. In a trance Helga took a step forward and began to fall … falling … falling … falling closer to the light, but never reaching it …

                THUD.

                "Ow," Helga muttered after colliding with her bedroom floor. She rolled over and stared at the clock. 12:51 pm. She sighed, but the ringing continued. After a few seconds Helga realized it was not in her head but the doorbell.

                She stood up and walked to the front door. _Miriam and Bob must have forgotten their keys,_ Helga thought as she opened the door.

                However, Helga's parents were not at the door. "If I had to wait much longer I was going to break down the door."

                Helga smiled. "No, Jake, I'm up."

                He followed her into the kitchen. "What's wrong?" he asked her as he bravely kissed her.

                "Nothing, I just thought you were my parents."

                "They're not back yet?" He was very surprised.

                "No."

                "Oh." He watched her face fall. "Hey, I'll bet their on their way home. The pageant's all they've been talking about for weeks. Hell, I got sick of it, and I'm not around them that much."

                "Well, I don't make it a priority to be around them, but still…"

                "Helga, I'm sure they wouldn't miss it for the world. They can't wait to see you wi—" He stopped as she telephone rang.

                "Hold on," she said as she picked up the receiver. Jake smiled at her as she talked. "Hello?"

                "Helga! It's about time! I've been trying to get a hold of you all morning!" Arnold cried.

                Helga felt her face turn red, and her body tensed. Jake noticed and mouthed, _Who is it?_ "Oh, uh, I was asleep," she replied, trying to act normal.

                "You just woke up?"

                "Yeah. What of it?"

                "I just – uh – nothing, forget it. How ya feeling?"

                "Fine," she said. Helga was growing very impatient. Arnold was talking about nothing, and Jake was giving her a weird look, clearly dying to know to whom she was talking to.

                "Are your parents home yet?"

                She sighed. "No."

                "Have you heard from them?"

                "No."

                "Really? Well, I'm sure they'll –"

                Jake frowned as she cried, "Look, not to rude, but why did you call?"

                The pause at the other end told her he was caught completely off guard. "I just wanted to make sure you were awake."

                "Well, I am," she snapped. "Mission complete."

                "Helga, please, I've got to tell you something—"

                "Look, Arnold, now's not a good time. You'll see me tonight, and you can tell me then."

                Another long pause. "Oh, I see," he said in a very cold voice that cut at Helga's heart. He knew Jake was there, she was sure of it. And thanks to her large mouth Jake knew she was talking to Arnold, and he was not happy about it at all. He leaned over the counter and began grabbing for the phone.

                "Look, I'm sorry for snapping at you, but I'll talk to you later. I promise."

                "Right, Helga."

                "Look, I'll see you in a couple hours. I got to go, so good-bye," she said, avoiding Jake's long arms.

                "Right. Good-bye."

                Helga heard his phone click in her ear as she stepped away from the counter. Jake fell and stared up at her. "What did _he_ want?"

                Helga stared at the phone. "I'm not quite sure…" She looked at Jake. "But don't ever interrupt my phone calls again."

                "Sorry, but that one was a waste." He sat in one of the bar stools with his arms crossed.

                "Jake!"

                "Helga, can you blame me for being upset? The guy's practically stalking my girlfriend. You want me to be okay with that?"

                She sighed. "Jake, he's my best friend, nothing more, nothing less. I promise you that, but you have to understand I can't just cut him out of my life."

                "I would," he muttered.

                "Jake."

                He stared up at her. "I know, I know. I believe you, really." He sighed. "Look, I didn't come here to argue with you. I came to take you out for breakfast, or lunch, or whatever the hell you eat when you sleep until one."

                "I not hungry."

                "Well, that's too bad because you're going to eat." He walked over to her, picked her up, and carried her into her room. "Here, get dressed."

                She laughed. "Are you going to leave like a good little boy?"

                Jake wrinkled his nose up. "But being bad's so fun." He kissed her deeply. "Change your mind?"

                "Nope!" she cried, smiling broadly.

                "Damn," he said, grinning down at her. "Well, I'll just wait downstairs."

                "Okay." Helga waited until he left and quickly got dressed. She looked at the phone for a moment before heading back downstairs. _What do you need to tell me, Arnold?_ She sighed. _I can't take much more of this._

~¤~¤~

                Arnold stared gloomily at the phone. _Ring…ring…ring…._ He sighed. Why should Helga call him back? She had _Jake_ to talk to. Never mind her best friend Arnold.

                He leaned back on his bed and stared up at the sky through the skylight, watching the clouds float through the sky. _Maybe it's just time to give up. All we are doing is causing each other more pain. I don't want to hurt her, and I know she doesn't want to hurt me._

                He could hear kids playing in the street beside the boarding house. Arnold closed his eyes. He did not wish to be young again; there was nothing to be gained by doing that. He just wished that he knew what to do. Should he continue to go after Helga, or let her go? Now that was the million-dollar question.

                Another face rose to the surface as Helga's melted away. _What was up with Lila last night? She acted like the funny, nice, real Lila that I liked._ He sighed. That was for damn sure over. When he was completely honest with himself, he did not care for Lila much at all. Even if she was her true self, she meant little more to him than any other acquaintance from school.

                He opened his eyes. In about an hour he had to go to the theater and make sure everything was perfect for the pageant. His weeks of hell were going to finally end tonight. He would not see Josh and Callie everyday, and Helga and he would spend less time together. Helga would be wrapped up with basketball playoffs and school and Jake, and he would be busy with his own basketball and raising his grades as the end of the grading period neared. Helga would not have to drive him to the Omni everyday, and he would not have to listen to her complain about practices anymore.

                Basically things would return to normal, which was the last thing he wanted. He did not want Helga to be just a friend. He did not want to have to live everyday knowing the girl he loved could not be his. He did not want to live everyday pining over her like he was now.

                He stood up. "So that's it," he said quietly aloud. "I'll just have to get over her."

                _Really, how hard could it be?_

~¤~¤~

                "Oh, God, I shouldn't have eaten anything today. I think I'm going to throw up," Helga said as Rhonda finished last-minute touch ups on her make-up. 

                "Yeah, you look a little bloated in that dress."

                "Rhonda!" Phoebe cried. She had been talking to Jake, but she now eyed the two to make sure they got along well enough.

                "I'm just joking," Rhonda said rather unconvincingly.

                Jake looked at his watch. "Shit. Helga, it's about fifteen minutes until the show starts –"

                "WHAT? No, no, no, no, no! I'm not ready! I—"

                "Helga, relax," he said placing his hands on her shoulders to calm her down. "You're going to do fine, but I've really got to go. You need to finish getting ready, and my mom's probably going crazy out there."

                Helga nodded slightly. Jake tried to kiss her, but Rhonda yelled, "No! No! I just finished her lips!"

                The two rolled their eyes. "Anyways, you'll do great. Don't worry about it. I'll see you afterwards."

                She nodded again, and watched in a trance as Jake left.

                "Whew," Rhonda muttered as she began to apply more eye shadow. "I always forget how amazing that boy looks."

                Phoebe's face scrunched up, but she said nothing.

                "Okay, and you are ready," Rhonda said happily. "Ta-da."

                Helga groaned as she looked in the mirror at her overly dolled-up face. "I can't do this."

                "Helga, just try to relax. It's almost over. You just have to get through the next couple of hours," Phoebe said calmly.

                "That's easy for you to say!"

                "Just pretend the judges are you. You talk to yourself all the time," a voice said behind her. "You'll feel right at home."

                "Arnold," she breathed as she spun around in her chair. Rhonda and Phoebe watched the two with interest.

                Helga and Arnold's eyes locked for a second, but he quickly rolled them. "C'mon, we need you backstage."

                She swallowed hard. "Right."

                Somehow she managed to walk while her legs felt like jelly. Arnold grabbed a sash that said _Miss West Hillwood High_ and placed it around her. "You'll go out second to last, before Lila." He fidgeted at the cuff links on his tuxedo, avoiding her gaze.

                "Great."

                "Helga, there you are!" Josh cried. "You ready?"

                _Ready to faint and make a complete fool of myself in front of thousands of people. _"Sure."

                "Well, I brought some people who wanted to say good luck to you."

                "What?"

                "There she is!" Nadine cried from behind Josh. She hurried towards Helga, with Eugene, Harold, Sid, Brainy, Alex, Stinky, Curly, Lorenzo, Sheena, Park, and Gerald at her heels. 

                Gerald walked over to a flabbergasted Helga. "We just wanted to say we're all behind you."

                "And you have two minutes," Arnold said.

                "Right, right," Lorenzo muttered.

                Tears filled Helga's eyes since she was already overly emotional with nerves. "You guys all came here to see me?"

                "No! Don't make her cry!" Rhonda yelled, rushing to the group.

                After a few more moments, Arnold came over to the group. "Okay, you seriously have to leave now. Helga's due on stage in three minutes."

                Sure enough, Samson was yelling, "Miss Pataki! Over here!"

                "Thank you!' Helga yelled at them as Josh led them back to the theater. Rhonda and Phoebe followed their boyfriends out the door, wishing her good luck as they went.

                Arnold stared at her. "Well, you better get going."

                "Yeah." She took a deep breath and turned to leave just as a thought hit her. "Hey Arnold! What did you want to tell me?"

                "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

                Samson walked over to her and grabbed her arm. "Miss Pataki, now! You need to get in line to go on stage!"

                "Right, right, just hang on! Arnold, are my parents here?"

                Arnold looked surprised. "Oh, I don't know. I'll check for you."

                "Thanks, Football head!" she cried as Samson drug her away.

                Arnold shook his head, but a disturbing thought filled his head. What if the Patakis did not make it? Helga would never forgive them. He ran to find out.

                "Would you let go of me?" Helga demanded as Samson practically threw her in line between Lila and Alyson Parquet. Mr. Soares began to open the pageant.

                "Look, Helga, I know I haven't always been the nicest to you, but you can do this, understand?" he said to her.

                She smiled. "Yeah. No sweat, right?"

                He smirked. "Haughty until the very end, right?" He left her. 

                Callie, who was standing in front of Alyson, turned around. "See you in the top five, Helga."

                Suddenly feeling a lot more at home, Helga said, "Damn straight."

                Lila cleared her throat behind Helga. Helga turned around. "Yes?"

                "I guess this is the moment of truth."

                Helga's eyes narrowed as Sarah Andrews introduced herself. The pageant had begun. "May the best girl win."

~¤~¤~

                "Callista Hayeworth, Miss St. James High School."

                "She's amazing, isn't she?" Josh asked Arnold. They were in the back of the theater while the rest of the boys were escorting the late arriving members of the audience. 

                "Yeah," Arnold said half-heartedly. His heart skipped a beat as Helga walked out on stage after Alyson announced herself. Acting as though she did it everyday, Helga walked up to the microphone and as clear as day said, "Helga Pataki, Miss West Hillwood High."

                Arnold leaned towards Josh and whispered, "I'll be back. I've seen the dance routine about a million times."

                "Where are you going?"

                "I just have to find something. I'll go back backstage when they announce the top five."

                "Okay. I'll get going there now."

                Arnold bolted out the door and ran to the main lobby were Chloe and Kathryn were taking tickets at the door.

                "Hey Arnold," Kathryn said pleasantly, oddly out of character for her.

                He pointed to the pile of tickets in her hands. "Is that all the tickets you've got?"

                "Yeah, and Chloe's got all hers. Why?"

                "Can I look through them?"

                "Sure," she shrugged, handed the pile to Arnold as she continued to great people.

                Arnold flipped through the pile, not finding what he was looking for. "Damn," he whispered as he handed them back to Kathryn.

                "What's wrong?" she asked, but Arnold ignored her and took Chloe's pile from her. Bob and Miriam's tickets were not in her pile either. "No!" he cried.

                "Arnold, what is it?" Chloe asked.

                "How could they do this to her?" he muttered to himself as he walked away, leaving the girls very confused. He went backstage were Josh was talking to Rhonda and Phoebe.

                "Did you find what you were looking for?" Josh asked.

                "No." Arnold looked at Phoebe. "They're not here."

                Phoebe's face went white. "Arnold, Helga just made it in the top five. Mr. Pataki needs to be here. They both do"

                Arnold tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Sure enough, Helga was standing in front of the rest of the girls along with Sarah Andrews, Sabrina Verducci, and Callie.

                "And the last member of the top five is," Mrs. Chadwick started, "Jacquelyn McKinley, Martinsville High School!"

                The young girl squealed and slowly made her way to the front of the stage as all the other girls hugged her. Arnold sighed. He was ecstatic that both Helga and Callie made it into the top five, but Helga was going to be crushed when she learned that her parents were not here. _They better make it here soon, _he thought.

                "Uh-oh," Phoebe whispered.

                "What now?" Arnold asked.

                "Do you notice anything about the top five?"

                Arnold looked at the girls again. Helga, Callie, Sarah, Sabrina, Jacki…

                "Oh, crap," he muttered. Rhonda was jumping up and down. "Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes!"

                Lila was not in the top five.

A/N: I'll leave it at that. So finally the pageant has started. Next chapter's titled, "Feeling like a Little Girl." Make what you want of it. I'm tired, so I'm going to bed. Later days.


	23. Feeling like a Little Girl

A/N: Second cancelled school day of the year. Usually I am extremely opposed to such days because we have to make them up later, but I have to admit today was very nice. I got some much needed sleep, and some much needed time to work on this ^_^. Enjoy.

Disclaimer – I do not own Hey Arnold, and this is extremely repetitive.

Where to Begin

Chapter 23 – Feeling like a Little Girl

                Arnold watched the girls exit the stage. Many were actually happy that they were not in the top five and the pressure was gone. A few looked genuinely disappointed, but an auburn-haired girl ran past him towards the dressing rooms holding her hands in front of her face. "Lila!" he cried after her, but she just kept running.

                "Aw, forget about her, Arnold. You don't have time to worry about that drama queen," Josh said.

                "Josh, she just lost. Be a little considerate," Phoebe snapped. Josh just shrugged.

                "Yes!" Callie cried as she ran to Josh and gave him a big hug. Josh looked scared, clearly thrown that the girl he had been pining over had suddenly thrown herself at him. "Ha ha, I did it!"

                Helga walked calmly towards them, a slight smile on her face. "Personally I was hoping I wouldn't go on, but whatever."

                "Oh, congratulations, Helga," Phoebe said.

                "Yeah, you got in and Lila didn't! Oh, it's such a happy day!" Rhonda cried.

                "Rhonda, shh," Arnold said. "Good job."

                Helga's eyes widened and she paled as she looked at him. "Oh, thanks."

                He watched her, puzzled. _What is she thinking?_ he wondered, but that was like asking how many grains of sand were on a beach. He sighed.

                "Are Bob and Miriam here?" she asked as Rhonda patched up her makeup.

                "Not yet," he said quietly.

                Her smile fell from her face, but she did not have time to say anything else. "Helga, you need to go get ready for the interview," Josh said.

                "Right." She threw one last look at Arnold before walking back to Samson, who was standing beside the curtain with Callie.

                "The Patakis aren't here yet?" Phoebe asked him.

                "Nope," he said. He shook his head. "They're probably just running late."

                "Right." 

                Arnold looked back at Helga, who was smiling slightly from her nervousness. _This is ridiculous,_ he thought. "Phoebe, do you know Mr. Pataki's cell phone number?"

                Phoebe shook her head. "No, but I think it's in Helga's address book. I'll go get it."

                "I'll go too," Arnold said, and the two quickly walked to a dressing room that was now filled with girls. Arnold felt extremely uncomfortable as Phoebe dug through Helga's bag (Arnold had always had a problem with going through anyone's personal belongings, and Helga's stuff was definitely off-limits). He looked around the room and he noticed he was not the only boy there. Across the room a tall boy was tying his shoes. He looked extremely familiar, but Arnold could not see his face. "Phoebe, who's that guy over there?" he whispered.

                Phoebe looked up. "Where?"  
                "Over there," he said, but the boy was gone. 

                "Arnold, please, we don't have time," Phoebe scolded as she returned to her previous task. "Here it is! Let's see. Ah, here, 555-6732."

                "555-6732," Arnold repeated. "Okay, I'll go call Bob. You go back with the others. I'll be there in a little bit."

                Phoebe nodded, and they walked out together (Arnold was ecstatic to get away from all the girls. He had unfortunately overheard something about a tampon, and was not wanting to hear the remainder of the conversation), she going left, and he turning right. Arnold found a phone in one of the empty rehearsal rooms, and he quickly dialed Big Bob Pataki's number.

                "Hello," a high, squeaky female voice answered on the other line.

                "Uh, is Bob Pataki available?" he asked the girl, whom he presumed to be Olga.

                "Oh, he's not here right now, but he'll be back any second!" she finished excitedly.

                "Okay. Um, Olga, this is Arnold –"

                "Helga's friend?"

                "Yeah, and –"

                "What are you doing calling Daddy? Is Helga okay?"

                "Yes, she's fine. I was just wondering –"

                "Oh, good." Olga heaved a sigh of relief. "I was afraid they would have to go home so soon!"

                Arnold, aggravated with being interrupted so frequently, felt the blood drain from his face. He had to have misheard her. "Go home? Aren't your parents in Hillwood City right now?"

                 "No, silly. They're staying with me and David in Toronto."

                Rage burned throughout Arnold's body, and it was difficult for him to keep his grip on the phone as he shook with anger. _How could they? HOW COULD THEY? _"Oh, I see," Arnold said through clinched teeth. "I'm sorry to have bothered you."

                "That's all right, Arnold. Do you still want me to tell Daddy you called?"

                "No, that's not necessary," Arnold replied. _Seeing as how they are three thousand miles away,_ he thought angrily. "Have a good evening, Olga, and Helga sends her love," he lied.

                "Awe, you too, Arnold, and tell her the same from all of us."

                Arnold hung up the phone, sickened by what had just happened. The worst part about it was that he now had to somehow tell Helga. _Damn it._

~¤~¤~

                "Thank you, Callista. "Everyone, Miss St. James High School, Callista Hayeworth."

                Helga watched as Callie walked towards her. "Good luck," she said, and she left to go change. Helga sighed. She was not looking forward to the interview, but the questions had been completely simple for the other girls, so she figured it would not be horrible. She waited for the announcer to say her name.

                "Now here is our final contestant, Miss West Hillwood High, Helga Pataki."

                Helga took a deep breath and walked out on stage. The lights nearly blinded her as she walked to the chair that sat in between Mrs. Chadwick and Mr. Soares. She shook their hands and sat down. She could barely see the judges through the bright lights, but she could tell Johnny Stiches's eyes were fixed into her.

                "Helga, it's so nice to so you in the top five," Mrs. Chadwick said.

                "Well, it's an honor to have represented my school and to have gotten this far for it." Helga nearly threw up at her own words.

                "Miss Pataki, I understand that you are on the varsity girls' basketball team at West Hillwood High, and you work at the Oleander Café. Do you find it difficult to juggle basketball, work, and school?" Mr. Soares asked.

                Helga laughed at such a stupid question, but she figured it would just appear charming to the judges and audience, so she did not try to stop herself. "It can be at times, but I know what is most important to me, and I focus on that first. It can be hectic at times, and I have quite a few sleepless nights over the season, but I manage to make time not only for sports, my schoolwork, my friends, and my family, but also for myself." _What a load of bullshit,_ she thought, her smile never faltering. _I'd have more time for everything if I wasn't in this stupid pageant, but at least I'm getting some money out of it._ Helga's smile broadened.

                "That's amazing," Mrs. Chadwick said, nearly blinding Helga with her amazingly white teeth. _Someone needs to lay off the white-strips,_ Helga thought. "I also hear that you enjoy writing poetry," she continued.

                "Yes, in my spare time I write poetry. I find it to be a great way to express whatever emotions I am feeling, whether I'm happy, or sad, or angry. It's a very effective way for me to deal the stress that builds up with all of my activities. It's something that I truly love to do and would love to do professionally when I am older."

                "What influences you?" Mr. Soares asked.

                "Anything and everything. My writing is very personal, so it can be influenced by anything or anyone that I have come in contact with. I can be as easily influenced by the moon as I am by an article that I have read in the newspaper. I never really know what will inspire me, and I think that that adds to my writing because I can write about anything that I feel strongly about, not just about love or suffering or nature, or any subjects that writers tend to specialize in."

                "Who is your favorite author, poet or novelist?" he asked.

                "J.D. Salinger beyond a doubt. He once said 'What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn't happen much, though,' and I could not agree more. _Catcher in the Rye_ is my favorite book, and I also loved _Nine Stories._ His style is amazing, and I know has influence my writing, probably along with millions of others."

                "That's wonderful. Now, when you were younger you were a model for a major fashion designer?" Mrs. Chadwick grinned at her.

                Helga's smile fell for a moment as she was caught completely off guard. She forced a laugh. "Yes. I was actually for a brief time known as the 'It Girl' when I was about nine, but I actually chose to give it up, after I fell out of style, because someone very important to me reminded me that some things aren't worth making yourself miserable over, and looking back I feel that I made an appropriate choice. That's no type of lifestyle for any child to live, no matter how successful they become."

                "Well, Miss Pataki, it's been a pleasure to have you here with us, and thank you. Ladies and gentlemen, Miss West Hillwood High, Helga Pataki," Mr. Soares said as the audience exploded into applause.

                Helga walked off stage felling lighter than air. Callie hugged her tightly. "If this keeps up, we are so in the top three!" she cried.

                Helga laughed. "Everything I said was so fake, though. I feel awful."

                "You did great," Phoebe said.

                "Thanks. Have you seen Arnold?" Helga asked Josh.

                He shook his head.

                "He should be coming," Phoebe said.

                "Okay, well, we have to get changed. C'mon!"

                Helga, Callie, Phoebe, and Rhonda quickly rushed out the door and into the hallway, and Helga nearly collided with Arnold. "There you are!" she cried.

                He looked at her, not at all happy to see her. "Helga," he said softly.

                "Did you see me?" she asked, her smile falling.

                "No, sorry, I missed it. Pageant duties." He looked ashamed.

                "Oh, that's okay. It was a load of crap anyways." She grinned. "Just don't miss the dance thingy and my talent, okay?"

                "Of course not, but Helga, I need to tell you something."

                She bit her lip. "Sorry, but I have to go get ready. I promise I'll talk to you later." The girls quickly rushed off, leaving Arnold. "See ya in a bit!" Helga cried. She was too excited to give much thought to what Arnold needed to tell her.

~¤~¤~

                "C'mon, babe, why don't we paint the town," Helga sang as the girls performed their dance number.

                "She's amazing, isn't she?" Reese asked. He, Josh, and Arnold were sitting in the tech room watching the girls. 

                Arnold was too depressed to be impressed with Helga's talents. He sat in silence as the other two talked.

                "Are you okay, man?" Josh asked, finally remembering Arnold was still in the room.

                "Sure."

                "You're not still bummin' over Helga and Jake, are you?"

                Reese raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

                "No." Arnold sighed. "I got a hold of Helga's sister."

                "Really? So where are the brat's parents?"

                "Canada."

                "WHAT?"

                Arnold crossed his arms and transfixed his eyes on Helga. "Olga, Helga's older sister, lives in Toronto. Bob and Miriam must have gone back with her."

                Josh and Reese fell silent. "Does Helga know?" Reese asked.

                "Nope," Arnold said. "And it's my lucky task to tell her." He groaned loudly and ran his hands through his hair. "How am I supposed to do that? How am I supposed to tell her on one of the most important nights of her life that her parents aren't here when she needs them because they forgot about her and are with Olga?"

                The boys still had no idea what to say.

                Arnold stood up. "I can't just stand here. I'm going to see if everything else is running okay." He left and headed for the theater.

                Reese turned to Josh. "That boy's got a shit load of problems, doesn't he?"

                "Enough stress to kill a man." Josh sighed. "I wished she'd just wake up and see what's right in front of her."

~¤~¤~

"Tonight you're mine completely. You give your love so sweetly. Tonight, the light of love is in your eyes. But will you love me tomorrow? Is this a lasting treasure? Or just a moment's pleasure? Can I believe the magic of your sighs? Will you still love me tomorrow?"

                Arnold was in the back of the theater, only half listening to Callie sing. _Okay, I'll just go up to her after this. I'll say, "Helga, I called your dad and Olga said they're with her in Canada, but it doesn't matter because you don't need them," then she'll go hysterical and probably beat the shit outta me. Okay, Um… _

                "Tonight with words unspoken, you said that I'm the only one. But will my heart be broken when the night meets the morning sun?" 

                "_Helga, your parents aren't in Hillwood. Hell, they're not even in the country. Isn't that funny?" Then she'll say, "Hysterical," and breakdown, either hitting me or start crying uncontrollably._

"I'd like to know that your love is a love I can be sure of, so tell me now, and I won't ask again. Will you still love me tomorrow? Tell me now, and I won't ask again. Will you still love me tomorrow? Will you still love me tomorrow? Will you still love me tomorrow?"

                The crowd applauded loudly, interrupting Arnold's thoughts.

                "Now, our final contestant, Helga Pataki, Miss Hillwood High."

                Arnold watched her walk down the stairs towards the mike. From where he stood she looked like an angel in her long, white dress. She was blushing slightly, and he could tell she was nervous, but the moment she opened her mouth she seemed to be in another world, and completely at ease.

                "Can you hear it in my voice?" she started. "Was it something I let slip? Does the whole world know? Isn't it obvious?"

                This was not the song she was supposed to sing. _When'd she change it? Why'd she change it?_ A conversation slowly returned to him, and he remembered Helga saying something about how she could not sing about anything personal. _Maybe she finally found a reason to…_

                "I'm the one who's in control. Now I'm acting like a fool. Do my feelings show? Is my face aglow? Isn't it obvious, that I don't know what I'm doing anymore? I'm feeling like a little girl. Caught up in emotions, I'm out of control. Isn't it obvious?"

                Arnold had a feeling she knew exactly where he was, but she avoided looking in his direction, nor, he noticed, towards Jake. It was as if she was in a trace, telling her feelings to faceless strangers, finally allowing herself to admit what she had felt for so long. _But, wait, is she…_

                "Do you see my hands? They tremble. Wonder why I can't look you in the eye? Don't know how long I can keep this inside. Isn't it obvious? Oh, I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I'm feeling like a little girl. Caught up in emotions, I'm out of control. Isn't it obvious? Oh and suddenly these emotions are in control of my heart. Can you see my eyes? Every glance, every smile must give me away, because I feel so much I can't hide. Oh, I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I'm feeling like a little girl. Caught up in emotions, I'm out of control. Isn't it obvious?"

                Helga finished to a deafening round of applause. As for him, Arnold was dumbstruck. It was almost as if Helga had just admitted how she felt about him, but… He sighed. It could still have been for Jake, or it could have just been a song, but…. _No, I know she was singing that to me. No matter what, Helga has some sort of feelings for me. _ 

                The more he thought about it, the more he understood things from her point of view. What happened tonight was a prime example. Helga cared about Jake, that was obvious, and as much as Arnold hated to admit it, Jake had very strong feelings for Helga. _Still, Helga cares for me as well. She knows what it's like to be hurt by someone you love and care about since her parents have done it so many times to her. Helga doesn't want to hurt Jake, especially since he forgave her for kissing me…. and she's been acting so crazy lately because she doesn't want to hurt me either… and naturally it's my luck that I'm on the short end of the stick. So, because she's confused and has enough on her mind, she does nothing… _That sounded a lot like Helga, tangling herself up in her own web until she had no clue how to get herself out.

                Renewed hope filled Arnold from head to toe. She was not completely lost to him, nor completely out of reach. He just simply had to stay close to her and let her know that no matter what, he cared for her and would always be there for her. Enlightened, Arnold bolted towards backstage. He raced through the hallways, nearly knocking several people to the ground. He did not care. All he wanted to do was tell her how amazing she did and how amazing she was, without telling her that she was amazing and revealing too much, thus making her uncomfortable and giving her something else to worry about. Quite a task, but he was more than up for the challenge.

                He was about to open the doors, but he stopped. Helga needed to have Big Bob escort her in the eveningwear competition, which was next. He slipped inside and faded into the shadows and away from her view as she, Rhonda, and Phoebe returned to the dressing room to prepare. 

                He sat down in an old directors chair and listened to a local opera singer perform. Arnold had often wondered who was worse off: he because he did not have parents, or Helga because she had such awful parents. He had always thought himself, because no matter what Helga still had Bob and Miriam, but now he was not sure. He was still surrounded with people who would do anything for him, including amazing grandparents who had been better parents to him then he could have ever imagined. Helga probably had only four people who really cared about her: her aunt who lived out east, Phoebe, Jake, and himself. It was no wonder that Helga clung to and pushed away at the same time the people she cared for the most. She really had no idea what to do.

                _And now I get to crush her hopes again. _He put his head in his hands. _It just never gets easier for us, does it?_

A/N: Yippy skippy. Another chapter in the books. Chapter 24, "Perfect," is up next. I think you can figure out what it will be about. Later days.


	24. Perfect

Author's Notes: ¬_¬ Well, spring break is finally here, and so is chapter 24 (and a very bad stomach ache, might I add). I'd just like to thank everyone who has reviewed. I appreciate the fact that you take time to not only read my story but also either tell me how much you like it or give me constructive criticism. I also hope that you are still interested in my story, since I haven't updated for a long time…and on that, I'd like to say something. I know that I have a problem with updating, but please be patient people. My job is not to write fanfiction. My job is a student. My family and friends, school, and work come first. Maybe this means that I'm not that serious of a writer, and maybe that's true, but please be patient. I've said many times that I'm going to finish this story, even if it takes me a long time. I haven't updated because of things that have happened personally that I don't really want to get into, but please understand that badgering me with complaints of my lack of updating does not make me write any faster. I'm doing the best that I can, and if that's not enough, than it's not enough.

Again, thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. 

**I don't know what the hell happened to Chapter 17, because most of it is missing (which has graciously been brought to my attention...thank you so much). And since most of my work was lost when the computer had a virus and when I lost my disk, I don't have a hard copy, so I'll have to rewrite it here pretty quick. So nobody read Chapter 17!!!**

Oh, and I'm taking a break from _A Sure Thing_, although the next chapter's half written, so I can finish _WTB_.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Hey Arnold!_

Where to Begin

Chapter 24 – Perfect

                Arnold knocked on the dressing room door, his insides a complete mess because of what he was about to do. He feared for his own life, for there was no telling what Helga would do when she found out that her parents were in Canada with her sister instead of in the audience of the Omni.

                "Come in," a voice he did not recognize said.

                He opened the door and walked in slowly, and was happy for doing so because it was not as obvious that he was stopped dead mid-stride. Helga was standing in the middle of the room, now adorned in a sapphire blue dress. Rhonda was fixing her hair, Phoebe was standing on a chair and fixing her makeup, and a young woman dressed in funky clothing stood off to the side. He recognized her as the clothing designer Reilly something-or-another.

                "Hey Arnold," Helga said shyly from behind Phoebe's head.

                "Can I please talk to you alone?" he asked, his hands in his pockets as he fidgeted with a ball of lint.

                Helga paled beneath her make-up. "Sure," Reilly answered for her. "Good luck, Helga." She and Rhonda left together talking about Reilly's new spring line.

                "I'll see you in a bit, Helga," Phoebe said, jumping down. She gave Arnold a funny look, but left without saying anything more.

                An awkward silence filled the room as the door shut behind Phoebe. Arnold swallowed hard and looked around the room, at anything other than her wide brown eyes and shy smile. "You look beautiful," he said as he looked at the playbill for _Rent_.

                "Oh, thanks," she said, blushing deeply. Helga spun around. "It reminds me of Anya's dress in _Anastasia_. I love that movie."

                "I know. You so kindly enjoy reminding me that men are babies," he replied dully.

                She laughed, filling the air before another uncomfortable stillness surrounded them.

                Arnold cleared his throat, still avoiding her gaze. "You were amazing out there."

                She stopped spinning. "So you saw me?"

                "And heard you."

                "Oh." She fell silent and sat down in a chair.

                He finally found the courage to look at her, and naturally she was staring at her shoes. "But that's not why I'm here."

                "Oh?" She did not seem the least surprised.

                He sat down beside her. "Helga, I'm came in here to tell you about your parents."

                Her face lit up. Clearly that was not what she was expecting from him. "Are they here? Where's Dad? Is he here?" She began looking over her shoulder as if Big Bob was waiting for a cue to enter.

                Arnold turned away. "They're not here."

                "What?"

                He swallowed hard and turned back to her. The look in her eyes showed she was nearing the breaking point emotionally. It threw him off, seeing Helga, usually so hard and composed, anxiously awaiting for an answer he could not give her. "Helga, your parents aren't here. They're in Toronto."

                She was silent for a few moments, her eyes not focusing on anything as she took his words in. "What? How?" she asked desperately.

                "I called your dad's cell phone and Olga answered. My guess is they just spontaneously decided to go back with her."

                "Meaning they forgot all about me," she whispered softly.

                "Helga—"

                "_No_," she stiffened in her seat. "It's my fault, really. I mean, I complain when they ignore me; I complain when they smother me with attention. I should have never got my hopes up. I mean, who the hell am I trying to kid?"

                "Helga, it's not your fault." _God, for once don't try to be so strong!_

Tears filled her dark brown eyes. "Yes, it is, Arnold. If I was half the daughter that Olga is, they'd be here."

                He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Helga, that's not true! Don't say that! You're a million times the girl Olga can ever be!"

                She stared into his eyes for what seemed like a lifetime before she flung herself into his arms. "Arnold, Arnold, please! Please just make this pain go away!"

                He held her close as she cried. "Helga, if I could I promise you I would have a long time ago, but I can't," he whispered. He could feel her tears soaking through his shirt, and he felt completely helpless to her.

                "How could they forget about this? They promised me!"

                Arnold had no idea what to say. What could he say?

                "Why tonight? Oh God, why couldn't they've missed something else? Why this?" she pulled away. "It's not fair!"

                He looked down at her. "Helga, nothing they've ever done to you has been fair."

                "How can they keep doing this to me?" she kept asking more to herself than to him. "My God, I'm their daughter!"

                "Helga," he said softly, "Helga, you don't need them."

                She looked up at him in disbelief and disgust. " 'Don't need them?' Arnold, they're my _parents! _I need them more than anything! No matter what, I still love them. I love them, and they give me this!"

                "Helga, there comes a point when the pain's just not worth it anymore!"

                She looked straight into his eyes. "Some things are." She held his gaze for a moment, then dropped her eyes to the floor. "But maybe you're right. Maybe I just need to give up on this dream that one day we'll be this big happy family and Dad will actually remember my name." Fresh tears fell down her face. "I just want to know somebody really cares about me," she murmured.

                "Helga, a lot of people care about you. Really care about you."

                "Who?"

                "Your aunt—"

                "Who lives thousands of miles away."

                "Okay, Phoebe and Gerald."

                "Gerald doesn't give a damn about me."

                "Gerald cares a lot more than you think, or even he thinks. And you can't deny that Josh and Callie do."

                "Okay, so—"

                "Jake."

                "Yeah, but –"

                "Me," he finished softly, but the effect of his word was as if he as screamed it at her.

                "You?"

                He smiled. "Helga, I know you're thick, but that's a record, even for you. Of course I care about you. More than anyone else."

                "But you're not family," she said, looking away after a silence.

                His smile grew. "Well, now I'm just insulted."

                "Huh?"

                "Helga, so your family's not like a normal family. Look at mine."

                She said nothing.

                He pulled her chin up so she had to look at him. "Look, Helga, the point is that there are people out there who love and care about you. Yeah, it's shitty that your parents aren't here, but they still love you. They just have a majorly fucked up way of showing it."

                Helga laughed and cracked a smile.

                Arnold hugged her tightly. "No matter what, I'll always be here for you."

                He let her cry. All she needed was for someone to tell her that.

                "Well, aren't you just a knight in shining armor?" she asked as she wiped her eyes.

                He blushed deeply.

                Helga stood up and moved towards the mirror. "Thank God for waterproof mascara." She quickly applied some foundation. "Well, Football Head, looks like I got a favor to ask."

                "What's that?"

                She turned around. "Escort me?"

                Arnold rolled his eyes.

                "What the hell—Arnold!"

                "Oh, Lord, Helga. You're supposed to be the unpredictable one! Who didn't see _that_ coming?"

                She glared at him. "Some knight of mine. Asshole."

                Arnold grinned. He stood up and extended his arm to her. "Shall we go, _milady?_"

                She took his arm, still slightly glaring at him, but a smile was on her face the entire time they walked backstage.

                Josh and Phoebe were quite surprised to see Helga and Arnold walk arm and arm through the doors (though they both smiled at the sight). Helga walked over to Samson and began explaining the situation to him. "So is she okay?" Josh asked.

                "No, but that's to be expected, don't you think?" Arnold watched her. "She'll hide it alright, though. I'm just worried about what she'll do when this is all over."

                "Hard telling," Phoebe said, but her smile had since faded. She was glaring at Arnold.

                "Look, everything's okay. I'm going to walk her, alright?" He shifted uncomfortably under Josh and Phoebe's gazes. He expected them to be jumping up and down at the news, but Josh looked oddly concerned and Phoebe looked horrified. "Aren't you guys happy?"

                They exchanged glances. "Arnold," Phoebe slowly began, "do you really think this is the right time to press your feelings on her?"

                "Phoebe—" he started, but Helga grabbed his arm. "Time to go."

                "Good luck, Helga," Josh called after them.

                Phoebe said the same, and as soon as the two were out of earshot, she turned to Josh. "This is going to get ugly, isn't it?"

                Josh sighed heavily. "I pretty sure you're right, but I hope you're wrong. For everyone's sake."

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                "Remember to let her into your heart, then we can start to make it better."

                "Do you always sing Beatles songs when you're nervous?" Arnold asked as they waited backstage for Helga's name to be announced. "Out of tune, might I add."

                "Only when I want to piss you off," she responded automatically.

                "I'm glad my pain gives you joy," he said as Helga's name and his own were called. He offered his arm to her again. "May I?"

                She took his arm and they began their descent down the steps. "If you trip, I'll kill you myself," she whispered out of the side of her mouth.

                "Oh, so if I just do something random to make you mad, you'll hire a hit man?"

                Her smile widened as was completely genuine, unlike the forced smile she had been using most of the night. "Hey, I got him for a good price, so I might was well use him."

                "How much?" Arnold pushed on as they neared the floor.

                "$200 a week."

                "Ouch. Wolfgang'd kill me for free."

                Helga could hardly hold in her laughter as they stepped into the spotlight. Beside her, Callie was bewildered at their behavior, and some how Arnold managed to spot Jake in the crowd, and he did not look the least bit happy. _Score one for my team._

                "And for the moment we've all been waiting for, the top three," Mr. Soares said.

                "Our first contestant to move on is … Miss East Hillwood High, Sabrina Verducci!" Mrs. Chadwick cried.

                Sabrina hugged her father and went to stand beside Soares and Chadwick.

                "The second spot goes to," Mr. Soares started, "Miss Arlington High School, Sarah Andrews!"

                Tears flowed down Sarah's face ("Again, I must stress the importance of waterproof mascara," Helga whispered to Arnold) as she joined Sabrina.

                Beside him Helga stiffened. He knew exactly what was going through her head: only one spot and both she and Callie were left.

                "And the last spot goes to…" his words faded.

                Helga's hold on him tightened.

                "Miss West Hillwood High, Helga Pataki!"

                She let out a deep breath, and hugged Arnold, then Callie.

                He watched her in her moment. She was meant to be there, to finally have people realize how incredibly charming and talented she was. He had known it for ages.

                And he would spend a lifetime wondering why he did not realize it sooner.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                _Gross,_ Helga thought as she bent down to itch her calf. She could feel the sweat through her gloves. _Thank God it's almost over. I'd kill for a pair of sweats at this point._

Sarah Andrews was answering her final question, which was something gay such as if she could prevent one moment in history from happening what would it be and why (she was currently rambling on and on about 9/11). Helga vaguely wondered who was that unoriginal with their question (all the girls had written their own question to be asked, and the top three then drew a question from those). She had asked what moment had been the most influential in your life. Dumb, yes, but she figured it might rattle any one who expected to talk about gun control or abortion for a minute and a half.

                She was trying to think of anything and everything, including the price of tea in China to keep her mind away from more pressing matters. Her life seemed to be one big mess at the moment. There would be hell to pay when Bob and Miriam returned, and Olga may go in the mix if she knew about the pageant.  However, it was not the most challenging problem at the moment. That medal went to her love life.

                Her head had been spinning from all the circles she had been around. One moment she was ready to run off with Arnold, and the next she was amazed that she is the lucky girl that Jake Robinson, who was turning out to be a really sweet guy, would want to date her. While there was no doubt she cared deeply for Jake, she could no longer lie to herself about Arnold. _I'm going to have to decide something soon. It's just not fair to them,_ she thought.

                "And now our final contestant, Helga Pataki."

                She walked over to the host in a daze; the bright lights were finally starting to get to her. She was kicking herself for completely blocking out Sabrina's answer. She had no idea if she answered well or not.

                "Well, Miss Pataki, are you ready?" Mr. Soares asked.

                "I think so, though I'm getting used to all the butterflies in my stomach."

                The audience relaxed, and Helga relaxed a bit. Clearly she could still be herself, and they would still like her.

                "Please reach into the bowl and pull out a question," Mrs. Chadwick said.

                Helga did as she was told and handed the slip of paper to Soares.

                "Miss Pataki, your question is as follows: The babies of the eighties generation is on the verge of taking their place among the leaders of the world. What do you think is the most important element to prepare your generation for their destiny?" He asked, holding out the microphone for her.

                It was Callie's question. The reference to a Something Corporate song gave it away. Helga took the microphone, once again ready to share a part of herself that she had kept secret for so long. "I believe the most important element is the ability to form strong relationships, especially the most important one, which is that between parents and child." She paused, and continued. "Whether they are aware of it or not, children spend the first thirteen years of their lives basically idolizing their parents, watching their every move and imitating it. Once the child enters his or her teenage years, the child will continue watching but now analyzing what they see, quickly ready to rebel against any and all hypocrisy. No matter how hard the child fights, that relationship is the foundation for every thought, every word, every action that child will ever make. If the relationship with the parents is not strong, the child will have difficulty forming any close relationship. A broken bond in that relationship is a scar that will never heal, no matter how much time passes. It is much harder to lead when you carry that type of weight in your heart."

                She stopped to a dead silence. There was nothing left to do; she'd poured her heart out, and if it was not good enough, than so be it.

                "Ladies and gentlemen, Miss West Hillwood High, Helga Pataki," Mr. Soares said as a woman in a glittery dress came out holding an envelop. "Thank you," he said through the cannon of applause. "Now for the moment we've been waiting for."

                Helga crowded together with the other girls, her heart pounding in her chest.

                "The second runner-up is…" he opened the envelope. "Miss East Hillwood High, Sabrina Verducci."

                Helga hugged Sabrina as she went to accept her flowers. 

                Sarah took Helga's hand. "Well, this is it," she whispered.

                Helga nodded, not able to open her mouth, which seemed to be locked in a smile.

                "And the first runner-up, who will assume the title of Miss Hillwood if the winner is unable to fulfill her duties is… Miss West Hillwood High, Helga Pataki, meaning Miss Arlington High School Sarah Andrews is our new Miss Hillwood!"

                Helga hugged Sarah as the Arlington fight song blasted through the theater. She watched as Sarah was crowned and walked across the stage. It was odd to see the pageant from this angle; Helga was finally aware of where she was, the daze was gone. Suddenly she could not wait to get out of her dress, and she quickly followed Sabrina offstage as soon as she received her own bouquet of Champaign roses.

                Samson was the one to speak to her. "Congratulations, Miss Pataki."

                "Thank you," she responded quickly before finding Phoebe. "Phoebe!" she cried, running over to her friend.

                "Helga! I can't believe it!" Phoebe hugged Helga tightly.

                "Second place. Not too bad," she said, smiling widely.

                "You should have won. Sarah's answer was so cheesy and predictable," Callie said.

                Helga hugged her next. "I don't care. I'm just so happy this is all over."

                Arnold watched as Josh, Nadine, Eugene, Harold, Sid, Brainy, Alex, Stinky, Curly, Lorenzo, Rhonda, Sheena, Park, Gerald, and several of the girls on Helga's basketball team run up to her, each one dying to congratulate and hug her. It was a fascinating sight, really. _Maybe now she'll realize just how important she is to everyone. _He started over to join the rest of them.

                "Helga!"

                Arnold's heart dropped. Jake sprinted to Helga and picked her up. "Helga, oh my God, you were amazing out there!"

                Arnold watched with even more disgust as Jake kissed her deeply and the crowd cooed.

                "Well, I don't know about anyone else, but I think it's time to go celebrate, right?" Josh asked, clutching Callie by the waist. The rest of the crowd loudly shouted in agreement.

                "What do you say?" Jake asked Helga.

                "Only if we celebrate Callie's great job too, and also the West Hillwood High's girls basketball team who will be ready to win sectional next week."

                The basketball girls responded by screaming, and Callie merely laughed.

                "Then let's go!" Jake cried.

                "You coming, Arnold?" Josh asked.

                Arnold watched as nearly twenty-five pairs of eyes focused on him. "Uh, I actually have to stay here and help finish things up, you know, since I'm crew chief or whatever," he muttered quickly, sticking his hands in his pockets and wishing desperately that he was not so stupid.

                Josh stared at him. "No, you go and I'll stay, Arnold. You've got to be crazy."

                "Naw, you go. I should head home early anyways."

                Nearly everyone was frowning or wearing some form of bewilderment on his or her face (with the exception of Jake, who was now grinning from ear to ear). Helga pushed away from everyone and approached him slowly. "Don't you want to come?" she asked softly.

                "I think I've stolen you away from everybody enough as is tonight, Helga." He looked directly at Jake. "I don't want to impose anymore."

                Helga followed his gaze. "Arnold, don't be crazy. You won't be imposing. I _want _you to come."

                "And I want to come, but do you really think that that is the best idea at the moment? And least in terms of you and Jake?"

                She glared at him. "No, I suppose not."

                He sighed and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry, Helga, but I'll see you tomorrow."

                "Good-bye," she whispered. 

                He watched everyone leave, and tried to push out of his mind the questions that Gerald, Josh, and Callie would most likely grill him with later. He went to go congratulate Sarah, and began cleaning everything up. He would much rather be with his friends, but there was no doubt in his mind that he had done the right thing.

                Nearly two hours later he finally arrived home, dragging his feet. "Hi, Grandpa," he said as he entered the kitchen. His grandfather was sitting at the table, reading an old newspaper and eating a colossal ham sandwich.

                "Arnold, there you are. I half expected you to be pouring yourself in here in a couple of hours. Why aren't you out partying with your little friend? Didn't she get second place?"

                Arnold sat across from his grandfather. "Yeah, she did."

                "Well?" Phil asked as he took another large bite out of his sandwich. 

                Arnold stole a pickle off his plate. "Well what?"

                "Well why the heck are you sitting here with me?"

                Arnold sighed. "Because – it's just complicated, Grandpa. That's why."

                Phil chewed thoughtfully. "Ah, I see. So you're in love with the girl," he said calmly in between bites.

                "WHAT?! I'm not in love with Helga, I just—I'm only—I—" he sputtered, his defense collapsing.

                "Right, now that's a convincing statement, Short Man," he said flatly as he went to the refrigerator. "Milk?"

                "No thanks."

                "You know, Arnold, generally it's a good thing to love a person, which makes me wonder why you look like your pig got ran over."

                Arnold rolled his eyes. "Grandpa, Abner _did_ get ran over, remember? I was twelve."

                He choked on his milk. "Oops, right. Forgot about that one." He looked smugly at Arnold. "And that little girl with the eyebrow got you a new one from her grandmother's farm in the Dakotas."

                Arnold watched as his pig Sylvia snored loudly from her bed beside the fridge. "Right, so I gave her a kitten in return…"

                "Mmm-hmm, so what's the problem?"

                Arnold sighed. "Helga has a boyfriend."

                "Ah, I see." He scratched his chin. "Well, if I were you, I wouldn't be too worried."

                "What? That's it? Don't worry? Grandpa, what kind of advice is that?"

                His grandpa looked at him sternly. "That's advice from a man who needs to get to the W.C. stat. Look, Arnold, the little girl was crazy in love with you for who knows how long, and I always figured she still was. Those kinds of feelings don't easily fade, Arnold. So if I were you, I'd just be as good as a friend to her as possible, and wait for her to come around. There's not much else to do, but I wouldn't worry myself into a coma over it." He stood up. "I bid you adieu, Short Man," and ran out of the room towards the bathroom.

                Arnold sat stunned. _Helga was in love with me?_ It would explain most of his childhood. He sighed. _Grandpa's right. There's not much else for me to do._

From across the room, Sylvia gave an almighty snort. He smiled. 

_                And hell, maybe she **does** still love me._

A/N: Finally, the pageant's over. Next chapter – "The Boy who blocked his own Shot." Later days.


	25. The Boy who blocked his own Shot

A/N: Welcome to the second half of the story. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own _Hey Arnold!, _ or the song by Brand New for which the chapter is named for.

Where to Begin

Chapter 25 – The Boy who blocked his own Shot

_"If it makes you less sad, I will die by your hand,_

_I hope you find what you want,_

_I already know what I am._

_And if it makes you less sad, we'll start talking again,_

_And you can tell me how vile I already know that I am._

_I'll grow old, start acting my age,_

_I'll be a brand new day in a life that you hate…_

_Holding on to yourself the best that you can,_

_You are the smell before rain,_

_You are the blood in my veins…"_

                Arnold was having a terrible week.

                He spent the majority of Monday being ignored by Helga and the rest of the group that went out after the pageant, with the exception of Gerald, who wanted to know that the hell he had snorted that made him lose every single brain cell in his head. He had to listen to Jake go on and on about Helga in the locker room before practice and was on the receiving end of a beating from Jake during their scrimmage because Arnold took Jake's spot among the starters. Tuesday was slightly better, but only because everyone was talking to him again, except Helga, who now was avoiding him completely, which was quite a feat considering how many classes they had together and their lockers were next to each other. He managed a B minus on his chemistry test, but was back on the second team in practice, which ran late, meaning he could not make it to Helga's sectional game. Worst yet, Lila had called him that night and managed to talk to him for three hours straight before he finally found a pause long enough to say good-bye. It was too late to call Helga, and he had a couple hours of homework to do. Also on Tuesday he received a couple nasty letters from Callie and Josh, which were along the lines of Gerald's reaction the day before. Arnold was really beginning to wish he could turn back time to about a month prior.

                It was now last period on Wednesday. He had not seen Helga all day, and he was anxiously waiting for the last bell to ring. It did, finally, and he watched as Helga quickly left the room as Lila once again tied him up.

                He quickly grabbed his books. "Sorry, Lila, but I have to go," he quickly interrupted her. He jumped over the desks to get away from her and to the door.

                "Arnold!"

                "I'll talk to you later," he automatically called as he raced into the halls. He sprinted towards the junior hallway, nearly knocking over his history teacher. He ignored his reaction and continued on.

                "Phoebe!" he cried breathlessly as he stopped at her locker.

                "Arnold, what have you been doing?" she asked as she wrinkled her nose at him.

                "Why is Helga avoiding me?" he asked, ignoring her question.

                She returned the favor and continued to pack her bag.

                "Phoebe, please. I want to know.  Why won't she talk to me?"

                "Do you honestly blame her?" Phoebe snapped.

                He clinched his teeth together. "Phoebe, could you please remember for one moment that she's not the only one who's in pain over this?"

                She stopped, holding her physics book just above the shelf in her locker. Phoebe stared at him.

                "Why is Helga avoiding me?" he asked again.

                "She's confused," Phoebe said simply.

                "About what?" Arnold scoffed.

                "About you and Jake," she retorted reproachfully. "If you'd really notice what's right in front of your nose, you'd see that she hasn't been around Jake that much either." She shoved her French book in her bag. "Or anyone else for that matter," she muttered.

                "Why isn't she talking to you either?" Arnold asked, his breathing back to normal.

                Phoebe looked directly at him. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

                Arnold stared blankly at her. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

                Phoebe sighed heavily, clearly not interested in the conversation, or in helping Arnold, at all. "Let's just say I don't have the same feelings about you and Helga as my boyfriend does." She shut her locker and walked away.

                Arnold was stunned. It took him a moment to realize that Phoebe was no longer standing beside him. "Wait! Phoebe!" he cried as he again dashed down the hall, though it was easier this time because a majority of the students had already filled out.

                She politely stopped and turned around. "Yes?"

                "Why don't you agree with Gerald?"

                Phoebe looked at him, her eyes hard. "Because, Arnold, Jake's crazy about Helga, and for a while she was about him as well, at least until you decided that you were finally going to lose what you've had for so long." She spun on her heel, but Arnold grabbed her arm and made her face him.

                "What the hell does that mean?" Murder was in his eyes and he knew it, but Phoebe looked as cool as ever.

                "It means, Arnold, that I think you are confusing the girl and keeping her from being happy for something that can't work."

                Arnold was dumbfounded. "Why don't you think Helga and I would be good together?"

                Phoebe took in a deep breath. "Because, Arnold, she was in love with you for ten years, and you never even noticed! Somehow she managed to get over you and still be a great friend to you, and now you are confusing her and causing her needless pain!" She ripped her arm out of his grip. "Give up, Arnold, please, and spare the both of you a lot of pain."

                He did not stop her or go after her this time. He would not know what to say even if he did. _Well, there's two people who have said Helga once loved me._ He looked back towards his locker. Helga was not there. Defeated, he slowly walked in the empty hallway. _I can't give up. She means way too much to me._

                "There you are," a cold voice said behind him.

                Arnold turned around and found himself staring up at the last person he wanted to talk to at the moment. Disgusted, he turned right back around and began packing his bag. "So it would seem. Glad you can finally tell if people are really there or not, Richardson," Arnold said lamely.

                "Would you give up already?" Jake snapped behind him.

                Twice in about two minutes time Arnold had been told to give up what probably was the most important to him. His temper was uncharacteristically flaring, and he unwisely retorted, "Now Jake, you're going to have to specify. There are several things I'm going after at the moment, including a B in Chem II and working enough to finally buy a car, or are you talking about things that are currently yours, such as your starting spot or your girlfriend?"

                Arnold barely finished by the time that Jake had grabbed him and whirled him back to face him. "What the fuck did you just say?"

                Arnold somehow managed to shove Jake's hands off his chest. "I was merely telling you about my current aspirations. I'd tell you more, but I'm going to be late for practice here pretty quick."

                Jake shoved him, and Arnold's head began ringing from the impact of hitting the lockers. "Stay away from her," he hissed.

                "Richardson, are you really that blind? If you haven't noticed, Helga hasn't talked to me all week. I highly doubt you would call that a threat." '_Course, apparently she hasn't been talking to you either._

                "Right, and it better stay that way." He pinned him against the lockers again. "You can't win at this, Arnold." He shoved him one last time. "See you at practice."

                Arnold watched him walk away, and quickly gathered his things. _Looking forward to it._ He stared at his practice bag. _Maybe it's time to start fighting fire with fire…_

                However, he could not shake the feeling that Jake was not just talking about Helga…

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            Helga yawned loudly as she walked out of the locker room. She was tired beyond belief, but was glad that she could go immediately home and not to pageant practice. She smiled broadly. That was all over now, with the exception of the banquet. She had one a scholarship, and the monetary value of it was enough for her to agree all the pain was worth it. 

                Her thoughts briefly rested on an article that had appeared in the newspaper the day before. One of the editorials had covered the pageant, and it questioned the integrity of the affair. The writer claimed that the vote between her and Sarah had been close, and that it was only "the bitter anger of a washed up clothing designer," meaning Johnny Stitches, and "the presence of the daughter of one of high officials of the Hillwood Women's Club" that led Helga to her second place finish. He mentioned her as Big Bob Pataki's daughter and former Miss Hillwood Olga Pataki's little sister, reminding everyone of Olga's dominance in the pageant (that part Helga had not liked much), but he continued on saying that Helga far surpassed her older sister in "all aspects that makes a young woman deserving of such a title." It certainly made her feel a bit better because she could not stop herself from believing that she should have won, not Sarah, but that feeling was quickly passing. She was also enjoying the empty house; her parents had not returned. All she had heard from them was a message on the machine from her mother saying they would not be back before the weekend. They would miss the rest of the sectional tournament, but Helga decided that she would not want them at the games anyways.

                Loud cheering from the auxiliary gym cut about her thoughts. She walked towards the door and opened it slightly, and her eyes widened to saucers.

                "Is this what you truly want to do, Arnold?" the boys' coach asked.

                Helga's eyes settled on the skinny blond boy, who was standing with several of the starters with a basketball tucked under his arm. Arnold nodded.

                "Well, ordinarily I would say no, seeing as how this could disrupt team chemistry, but by the way you've all been playing it's about time someone lit a fire under your asses." He crossed his arms. "I've spoken with the starters, and since they can't come to a decision on who they believe is best for the number two spot, I'll agree to your terms, Arnold. Whoever wins will start tomorrow." He smiled grimly. "Let's see what you boys' got."

                Helga searched for Arnold's opponent, and she took in a sharp breath when her eyes settled on Jake. _What the hell? ARNOLD!_ Yes, Jake had been struggling lately, but what was Arnold thinking? Her eyes narrowed. _Oh God, he better not be doing this because of me…_

                She watched as Arnold laid moves on Jake, moves that he had perfected playing against not only Gerald, but also her. Jake was falling for every shot fake and was constantly a step behind Arnold on defense. Arnold was flawless and was playing better than she had ever seen him play. He was continually stopping Jake on defense, and she watched as he managed to block Jake's shot and ran quickly down the floor for a lay-up.

                Their coach blew the whistle after about three minutes. "Well, I think I've seen enough. Arnold, it looks like you'll be starting at guard tomorrow."

                Arnold smiled and was congratulated by the entire team. Gerald was practically hanging on him, he was so happy.

                "Jake, you step it up, you'll have that spot back. Now everyone on the line!"

                Helga watched Jake begrudgingly run to the end line. _What kind of coach can willingly turn two teammates against each other like that? _ She swallowed hard as she watched the boys run. _I want Arnold to start, but not like this! Oh God, Jake!_

                They finished running and huddled to end practice. She waited in the hallway for Jake, thankful that Gerald and Chris were too busy congratulating Arnold to notice Helga standing behind the door. He finally came out, the last one, with his head hanging low. He was almost at the door when she heard her coach talking to him.

                "I didn't want it to be like that, Jake, but I needed to do something to get you back in the game. Look, you're just going through a rough streak, and Arnold's doing a great job right now. Still, you've got the experience over him. If you prove you can still lead this team, you're back up there. All right?"

                "Yes sir," Jake said somewhat automatically, and he finally walked out.

                "Jake," she said behind him.

                His face brightened as he turned to face her. "Helga, I was hoping you'd wait for me."

                She walked to his side, and he took her hand as they walked to the parking lot. "I'm sorry," she said.

                "What for?"

                "I saw everything."

                He sighed. "Yeah, that sucks, but I guess I'll just have to work harder, right?"

                She smiled weakly for him. "Yeah."

                He grinned as they walked outside into the bitter cold. "So, tell me, Miss Pataki, is the sixth man good enough for the runner-up and should-be Miss Hillwood?"

                She giggled. "More than good enough," she said as he leaned down to kiss her softly. However, thoughts of Arnold's actions were still in the back of her mind.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

            "Hail Caesar!" Harold cried.

                "Hail Caesar!" the crowd chanted.

                "Hail Irish!"

                "Hail Irish!"

                "Hail Chatard!"

                "Hell no!"

                Helga clapped along with the rest of the crowd. There was about minute to go in the ball game, and West Hillwood was up by thirteen. Arnold in his first game as a starter had played the one the best games of his career, putting up twelve points, six assists, and ten points. Jake had managed six, all from threes, when he had been in, but Arnold had played so well Jake was rarely needed.

                "Let's go, Jake!" she cried as he entered the game, but her voice was drowned out by the rest of the crowd that was cheering for Arnold as he went to the bench. He was laughing with Gerald, who was also done for the night as the second string went in to finish the game. 

                She angrily turned back to the game and watched as Jake pulled up and missed a three. She mentally groaned. _He shouldn't be shooting threes now, and he knows it. This has shaken him up more than I think their bastard of a coach realizes._

                "And the final score is West Hillwood 78, Bishop Chatard 65. The Fighting Irish play next Tuesday at Arlington High School, so be sure to come out and support our boys, and tomorrow the girls will be playing the semi-finals at the East Hillwood High Sectional against Marion Central, so we all hope to see you there in the quest for the crown."

`              "Exciting game, wasn't it?" asked Callie, who had come instead of going to her own school's game.

                "Not really. We got a hold of this one early."

                Callie shrugged. "So, tell me, when did Arnold become a starter?" she prompted, hoping for Helga to start gushing over Arnold.

                "When he challenged Jake for his spot and won," she snapped.

                "What? Are you sure that's how it happened?" Callie's voice was higher.

                "I was there, Cal, so I'm pretty sure."

                "What the hell is he thinking?" she muttered.

                "Obviously not a lot," Helga spit. Callie watched her through wide eyes. "C'mon, let's go find Jake and Phoebe."

                Callie noticed that she did not mention Gerald or Arnold, but she followed with interest. They walked by Arnold, who was being interviewed for the eleven o'clock news, and Callie shook her head as Helga walked by without a glance in his direction. 

                "Callie! What are you doing here?" Arnold asked as he ran after her a few minutes later.

                "I came to meet Helga. Congrats on starting," she said as she hugged him.

                "Thanks."

                "Yes, Arnold, congratulations are in order, aren't they?" Helga asked him, sarcasm dripping from every word.

                He stared at her, his smile never faltering. "Aren't you happy for me, Helga?"

                She smiled brightly. "Of course I am, Arnold. It's admirable to see someone want something so much to endanger a team's chemistry for his own personal advances."

                His face went blank, and he struggled to find words. "Helga, I did what I thought was best for the team."

                "And we know you always follow your best judgment, right, Arnold?"

                He swallowed hard, not knowing what to say.

                Her smile grew, and her eyes hardened. "Well, Arnold, I would come celebrate with you, but I wouldn't want to impose, although you probably want me to come, I have to think of what is best in terms of Jake and me."

                He was staring down at her with a mixture of pain, anger, and awe.

                She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Again, congratulations, Arnold. You truly are amazing."

                He watched her leave, every ounce of happiness in his body now gone.

                "I messed up, didn't I?"

                "That's sugarcoating it just a little. What the hell were you thinking, Arnold?" Callie demanded.

                "I let my emotions get the best of me, okay? Jake threatened me with a whole load of crap, and I saw an opportunity that I couldn't pass up." He seemed to be searching the air for the right words. "You saw us out there! We played better than we have all year. I'm not saying that's just because of me, but Gerald, Stinky, and I all play together all the time, and the rest of them can just play a lot better without Jake breathing down everybody's neck!" He wiped the sweat from his face. "It really is better for the team, I swear!"

                She sighed. "Then I guess for a while that's all the glory you will have." Callie gave him one last sympathetic smile before leaving to join Helga.

                "Tough break, man," Gerald said behind him.

                "You know, your girlfriend doesn't like the idea of me and Helga much either."

                "Oh, yeah, I was hoping you wouldn't find out about that."

                Arnold merely shrugged. "You know, Gerald, not to scare you, but it's times like these that being gay doesn't sound that bad. Well, minus the whole having sex with guys thing, but at least I wouldn't have to deal with girls."

                Gerald watched Arnold walk away. "Man, I hope that girl comes around here pretty quick. He's cracking up," he said aloud to himself.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                "Helga, baby, I have got to admit you looked pretty damn fine out there running circles around all those girls."

                Helga smiled weakly at Matt Gordon as she stepped inside his house, two of her teammates behind her. "Thanks, Matt, and you look pretty good drunk."

                "Thanks, Helga baby. Find me after a while. We'll see if we can work something out."

                "I'd love to, Matt, but I'm afraid my boyfriend'd have a problem with it."

                "Arnold?" Matt asked as he drowned another beer.

                "No. I'm dating Jake Richardson, remember?" she hissed darkly.

                "Right. Ol' Jakey. That's right, I remember all those stories now."

                Helga looked at him strangely. "What do you mean by that?"

                "Nothing. Hey everybody, the girls of the evening are here!" He put his arm around her, his hand resting against her left breast. "You need help mingling with everybody?"

                "No, I'll be fine." She pushed him away. "Later, Matt."

                "Adrienne!" He cried, forgetting about Helga as her teammate walked in with a much shorter skirt on than Helga. "Adrienne, sweetie, can you show me again that lovely stroke of yours that makes all those threes?"

                Helga left Adrienne to deal with Matt on her own. "Alexis!"

                The pretty senior smiled as she turned to face Helga. "Hi, Helga. Congrats on the win."

                "Thanks. Just one more, and than we're sectional champs. Again," she said laughing. "Anyways, have you seen Jake?"

                Alexis looked around. "Oh, I actually haven't for a while. You two didn't come together?"

                "No, we had to stay and watch the other game so we could scout the team we're playing tomorrow. Jake wanted to get here right away."

                "Well, I'm sure he's around here somewhere. Good luck, though. Matt's dad's townhouse is huge, if you haven't noticed." She rolled her eyes. "Personally I think they're both compensating for something."

                Helga laughed. "Yeah. Anyways, thanks Alexis. I'm going to look for him, so I'll see you later."

                "Okay. Good luck!"

                Helga looked around. The house was nearly packed with people. _How the hell am I going to find him?_ She spotted one of the boys on Jake's team, Chris Vetter. "Chris!"

                He turned around, a wide grin on his face. "Helga G. Pataki! To what do I owe this wonderful meeting to?"

                _Poor little bastard's drunk. _"I was looking for Jake. Have you seen him?"

                Chris chewed his lip. "I think I saw him go upstairs a couple of minutes ago. Looked like he was looking for someone." Chris smiled at Helga. "Musta been you."

                "Thanks, Chris. I'll start looking up there."

                "Bye, Helga G. Pataki!"

                As Helga walked slowly up the stairs she secretly wished she was Harry Potter. If she was she could use her Invisibility Cloak to get away from all the people who were stopping her to either congratulate her on their win or to hit on her, and she could use the Marauder's Map to find out where Jake was. _I really need to get a life,_ she laughed at herself. _Or at least some new reading material._

                "Excuse me. Excuse me. Sorry. Excuse me," she kept saying, narrowly squeezing through the crowd.

                "Whoa," a freshman boy said as she walked by him. He nudged his friend, who was watching a girl dance on a table, and caused him to spill his beer on Helga.

                "Uh," she said she looked at her shirt.

                "Oh, man, I'm so sorry, Helga. I'll buy you a new shirt, I—I," he stammered.

                She looked at him. "Do I know you?"

                "No, but I know you. Everyone does. You're the chick from the pageant." He seemed amazed to be in her presence.

                "Yeah, well, thanks, I guess. And don't worry about the shirt, I don't even like it." Well, that was true. It was one that Rhonda bought her. "But do you by any chance know where the bathroom is?"

                "Yeah." He was ecstatic to help her out. "Last door on the right on the second floor. I just threw up in there like twenty minutes ago."

                Helga made a face. "Um, thank you." She started to walk away. "Don't drink and drive," she said, looking at them. _Well, if they're going to practically worship me I might as well put some good sense into them._

"We can't drive yet," the boy said. "But dude, when we do, we'll be sure not to do that, Helga."

                "Right," she said. _Well, it was worth a try._

She slowly walked up the rest of the stairs. _Let's see. Last door on the right. That little runt better be right._ She slowly turned the knob and walked in.

                The room not a bathroom, but a bedroom, and Helga was met with the sound of feminine moaning when she opened the door. In the moonlight from the window she could see the girl was sitting topless (though thankfully her back was to Helga. She could see the shirt and bra on the floor) on the boy's lap, her legs around his waist. She could not tell who the boy was. _Well, this isn't the bathroom. Damn freshman._ She was closing the door when a flash of red caught her eye. She opened the door slowly again, and she watched as the boy's hands moved up the girl's back, a familiar large, red ring on the ring finger of the boy's right hand. The girl moaned again, and Helga was able to figure about her identity.

                She slowly closed the door, feeling sick. Forgetting about her shirt, she ran downstairs. "Matt! Matt Gordon!"

                "Helga baby," he purred as she met him at the bottom of the stairs. "You rang?"

                "How's about finding me a drink?" _I suddenly want to forget everything in my head._

A/N: Well, I'm screwed on my NCAA brackets (I picked Stanford over Kentucky. Damn). Oh well, it's  just basketball. Later days.


	26. To Kill Ya

A/N: Take a wild guess. I dare you. Sorry, I'm not very good with cliffhangers.

Disclaimer – Yada yada yada. I don't own _Hey Arnold!_

Where to Begin

Chapter 26 – To Kill Ya

                Arnold watched a freshman boy double over and vomit in a crystal bowl close to where he was sitting. Arnold wrinkled his nose. "Got another one!" he yelled. "Honestly, when are they going to learn not to drink too much too fast?"

                "Ah, it's a freshman. He'll learn soon enough," Gerald said, staring at his hand. "Well, boys, I've got a straight."

                Chris Vetter stared at his own. "Damn, I really shouldn't play poker when I'm nearly smashed. I think I've got a full house, but I'm not sure."

                "Let's see," Stinky said. "Yep, that's a full house, but I can't remember, does that beat a straight?"

                "Doesn't matter because I've got a straight flush," Arnold said smirking.

                "Bullshit!" Chris cried.

                "Wrong game, dumbass," Gerald said as he drank his beer. "Prove it," he said to Arnold.

                "Well, let's see, I've got a six, seven, eight, nine, and ten, all in diamonds. I win the pot."

                "Ugh, that stuff is nasty. I wouldn't touch it with a sixty-foot pole," Chris said as he took a shot of what was a mix of something Arnold did not want to know.

                Arnold and Gerald both exchanged glances. "Well, at least we won't have to worry about him getting busted for that," Arnold said as he collected his money.

                "That's assuming that he doesn't drink himself to death." Gerald made a face. "Seriously, dude, lay off that crap for an hour or two."

                "Youse got ten dollars?" Chris asked.

                "Yeah," Gerald held the bill in his hand. "Why?"

                "It's a deal," Chris said, swiping the note from Gerald's hand. "Nice doing business with you boys, but I'm broke. Arnold, nice playing. Later."

                "Amazing. He can steal even when he's drunk," Stinky said, smiling.

                "That's easy for you to say, Smiley. He stole my money," Gerald groaned.

                "Not near as much as I got outta you," Arnold said, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "I figured you would have learned your lesson by now."

                "Right, right. Arnold's the master poker player, sober or smashed," he growled.

                "Right, and right now I'm sober. Just let me go on the record as that." He pocketed his newly acquired cash. "Well, I'm going get something to drink that doesn't contain some form of alcohol."

                "Good luck," Stinky said. "This place is worse than Marti Gras."

                Arnold shrugged. "Then it'll give me something to do for an hour. Anyways, I'll see you later."

                He left the game room just as a fight broke out between two seniors over a game of pool. Arnold headed towards the kitchen where all the food and most of the drinks were. He was amazed at the amount of people throwing up and making out everywhere (and he felt like throwing up when he saw two beefy boys on the water polo team all over each other). He walked into the kitchen and saw a crowd around the bar screaming "Helga! Helga! Helga! Helga!" they all screamed and cheered.

                He tapped a sophomore girl on the shoulder. "What's going on?"

                "You know that pageant chick, Helga Pataki?"

                Arnold nodded.

                "She's totally drinking Matt Gordon to the floor! We've lost count of how many tequila shots she's taken."

                "WHAT?" Arnold pushed his way forward. Helga did not drink; after watching her mother spend nearly half her adult life drunk, Arnold could only remember her drinking twice, one at her sister's wedding, and only a bit each time. "Helga? HELGA!" he cried.

                "ARNOLD! There's my favorite goody-two-shoes. Where have you been? I need you to cheer me on! Right?" she asked the crowd.

                "Yeah!" they all cried.

                She gestured for him to come near her. "I've got my own fan base," she said, smiling widely.

                "Helga, you're drunk, and so is your fan base."

                "That doesn't make them any less, Arnold! How dare you be…be…be something-ist to my fans! They're leading me to victory!"

                "Helga, if you haven't noticed, Matt's passed out.  You won."

                Helga looked at the boy beside her. "I won!"

                The crowd went crazy again. It was all too much for Arnold.

                Helga stood up on the chair and began to jump up and down. "I won! I won! Shots all around 'cause I—ah!"

                Arnold caught Helga as she fell down. "Arnold! Where have you been? And haven't you carried me like this before?" she asked, the expression on her face that of a little girl who wonders why she is in her bed when she fell asleep on the coach.

                "C'mon." He carried her outside. Her coat was elsewhere, and it was now well below freezing, so he had her sit on the steps and put his coat around her shoulders.

                "I won, Arnold," she said.

                "I know, Helga. I saw." He stared at her. "Helga, can I ask you a question?"

                "Yes, you may," she replied as she leaned against him. "Only one."

                "Why did you drink so many shots of tequila?"

                She scrunched her face in deep thought. "I think I'm going to throw up."

                He helped her up and held her hair back as she vomited in the grass. She quickly slipped back down against the side of the rail, leaning into him so that he had no choice but to put his arm around her.

                "I wanted to forget something," she said slowly.

                He absentmindedly played with her hair. "What did you want to forget?"

                Her placid face turned into a deep frown. "The ring."

                He stared at her. "The ring?"

                He watched in horror as her eyes welled with tears. "I wanted to forget him and his ring and her."

                "Helga," he started slowly. He barely noticed how cold he was getting; all he knew was Helga was in excruciating pain. "Helga, who did you want to forget?"

                A tear fell slowly down her cheek. "Jake and Lila."

                Arnold's blood ran cold. "What about Jake and Lila?"

                A loud sob was his only answer. He cradled Helga as she sobbed uncontrollably, his mind filled with thoughts of different ways of killing Jake Richardson. Whatever he was doing with Lila, it was obviously bad, or else Helga would not have reacted so irrationally.

                "I sure he's sleeping with her!" Helga cried.

                 More hysterical crying followed. Arnold was finding it very hard to keep himself from storming in the house and strangling Jake. He held Helga closer to him.

                "I'm so stupid. I'm so stupid. I'm so stupid. I'm so stupid," she muttered.

                "Helga, you're not stupid. Hell, he fooled all of us, even Phoebe."

                "No, no, no, no, Arnold, you knew. You knew!" she cried. "Oh God, why didn't I listen to you?"

                He did not feel like listening to Helga regret not listening to him. Really, how was she supposed to know? Arnold acted like any jealous best friend. "Helga, do you want me to drive you home?" 

                She stared up at him, her eyes bloodshot and puffy. "Please," she whispered.

                "Okay, do you remember where you put your coat?"

                "I think so."

                He helped her up and followed her inside, holding her right arm to make sure she kept her balance. She led him back into the kitchen, where Matt Gordon was now awake and drinking again…Jake Richardson at his side.

                "Helga, baby, there you are!" Matt cried. Helga stopped dead, her whole body shaking with anger.

                Chris was on the other side of the bar, holding a Pepsi can. "Helga, Arnie, hey!" He snapped his fingers. "Helga, you forgot your coat." He picked up her coat and her purse.

                "Meaning she won't need your letter jacket anymore," Jake hissed.

                Arnold glared at him, and he noticed Lila was watching wide-eyed from the dining room.

                Helga just watched.

                "I told you to give up, Arnold. Now get away from my girlfriend," Jake said as he pulled Helga away from Arnold. His letter jacket fell to the floor.

                "I'm sure that won't be true for much longer," Arnold said threateningly.

                Jake glared at him. "What, d'you try to take advantage of her again?"

                The crowd fell silence and watched the three with interest. Arnold watched Gerald and Phoebe push their way in.

                "I didn't need to," Arnold said, smiling slightly as he failed to suppress a laugh. "She caught you."

_                "Excuse me?"_

                "She caught you, Jake. She caught you getting ready to have sex with Lila Sawyer."

                Jake's face turned white. He turned to Helga. "Helga, I don't know what you thought you saw but it wasn't me," he said slowly as placed his hands on her shoulders.

                "Don't touch me," she hissed, finally springing back life. 

                He dropped his hands. "Helga? Helga, don't you believe me?"

                "I saw you. I saw you with that, that slut, and now you try to lie to me?" she cried.

                Jake stood still, afraid to say anything.

                "Well? Where's your denial now? You fucked her tonight, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?"

                "Helga, I—"

                "You fucking asshole! DON'T TOUCH ME!" she screamed, jumping out of his reach. Tears filled her eyes. "You slept with her." She swallowed hard. "So, tell me Jake, besides all the times you supposedly slept with me, how many times did you sleep with her?"

                Jake still said nothing.

                "ANSWER ME, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT! HOW MANY TIMES DID YOU SLEEP WITH HER?"

                "Once. Helga, I swear, this was the only time. I was drunk, and –"

                "Oh, fuck you. Like hell it is, and like hell you were," she hissed. "And how many lies did you tell about me, huh, Jakey?"

                "Lies? Helga, I never lied about you," Jake cried.

                "BULLSHIT! Matt told me all of them, didn't you?" she demanded as she stared at him.

                "Yeah. Those were great stories, Jakey," he said, smiling at Jake.

                Helga's eyes narrowed to mere slits. "You fucking asshole. It wasn't enough to cheat on me, you had to lie about me having sex with you!"

                Jake's temper burst. "Fine! So I slept with the little whore. So what? It's not like you didn't cheat on me, Miss Holier-than-Thou."

                "I kissed him once, and I told you about it. I begged you to forgive me. I never did anything else!"

                "Maybe that's true, but the only reason why you never let me touch you is because you were saving yourself for that bastard!" he cried, pointing at Arnold. "Only he decided to be noble and stop pushing you, that or he was scared shitless of what I would do to him. If you had the chance, you would have fucked him in a minute, isn't that right?"

                "Oh, go to hell, Jake. Just because you were jealous of him the whole time –"

                "AND I THINK I HAD GOOD REASON, HELGA!" He shook his head. "God, every time I turned around there he was, either calling you or getting you ready for that damn pageant or escorting you in that damn thing! Do you think it was easy for me, huh? Watching that son of a bitch try to steal you away from me? Hell, he almost succeeded once, how was I to know he wouldn't try to do it again?"

                "But I never let him, did I? DID I?"

                Jake laughed coldly. "You know what, Helga, I had this planned from the beginning. A little differently, mind you, but planned from the start."

                "Jake, no!" Lila cried.

                "No, Lila, she might as well know, and he might as well too."

                Helga glared at him. "What are you talking about?" she spat.

                "What I am talking about, Miss Helga, is did you not realize I never gave you the time of day before you were chosen for that damn pageant? That I'd been sleeping with Lila on the side for months now?"

                Her jaw stiffened.

                "Lila hated you. She hated you for having everything that she'd wanted. For all the shit that you've put her through. For the fact that everyone in this school was twisted around your little finger so that you, although just as big of a bitch as she, was loved and accepted by all, while she wasn't. For you having Arnold," he hissed, smirking at her.

                Helga's expression remained blank. Arnold could not tell what was going on in her head.

                Jake continued after taking a long drink. "So Lila struck up a deal with me. I was to date you, and distract you enough to cause a riff between you and Arnold, affecting both your relationship with him and your ability to perform in the pageant, so Lila could have him and win. And it worked, at least the part of it, right? You've been pissed at him all week."

                Helga swallowed hard.

                "I agreed because not only would I still get Lila whenever I snapped my fingers, but I could also end up having the untouchable Helga G. Pataki, not to mention driving Arnold crazy with jealousy. After all, he was starting to make a grab for my spot, wasn't he?"

                "Looks like that backfired on you," Arnold hissed.

                "Shithead, it all backfired, because somehow I actually began to care about you, Helga." He smiled at her. "I really did. And I think we could have been happy. After all, you believed every lie I told you, and if it weren't for Arnold, once again, I could have lied to you again, and everything would have been okay."

                The room was filled with silence. Helga was shocked, as was Arnold. He knew Jake was a scumbag, but he never expected this.

                He threw his hands in the air. "So that's it, Helga. That's how I manipulated you. So it didn't work out the way we planned," he stepped towards her and leaned into her. "But we still had fun, right?" he whispered, kissing her lightly on the lips.

                Arnold had enough. He ran over and tackled Jake, punching him square in the jaw.

                "Arnold!" Lila cried.

                He stared at her, pure hatred in his eyes. He looked back at Jake, who was now sprawled on the floor. "Well, don't worry to much, Richardson. You'll always have Lila."

                He led Helga out of the house and helped her down the steps. She was back in a daze. 

                "Helga?" He asked as he opened the door for her.

                "Please, just don't speak, Arnold."

                He nodded, and shut her door. He remind silent as he drove her home. Helga was crying, only this time silently. Arnold felt a lot like crying himself. _How could I have let him do this to her? That asshole's screwed everything up. Everything. Helga could have been happy, with or without me. Now she has to deal with all this._

She was asleep by the time they arrived at her house. Arnold was thankful her parents had yet to return. He was not in any shape to deal with them, and neither was she.

                He picked her up and carried her upstairs to her room. Her cat pounced on the bed as Arnold laid her down. He pulled off her shoes and her stained blouse, thankful she had a tank top on underneath. He pulled the covers over her, and brushed her hair out of her face. "I just hope you'll get one last night of peace, Helga. Good night."

                He returned downstairs, and called his grandpa, explaining the jest of what happened. His grandpa understood, and gave him permission to stay over at Helga's. 

                He grabbed a bag of frozen peas and laid it over his throbbing hand as he laid down on the couch in the living room. _All I know is there will be hell to pay for Jake,_ Arnold thought as he closed his eyes. _But first I have to make sure she'll survive this…_

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                Her room was oddly dark when she woke up, considering the fact that her clock read eleven seventeen. She opened her eyes a bit more, and realized the curtains here drawn, drowning out most of the morning light. _The curtains are hardly ever closed_. She rolled over with difficulty and saw a glass water and two tiny pills lying on top of it. _And that's never there._

                She closed her eyes. What little light that was in the room made her head feel like she was continually being hit with a saucepan. She pulled the covers over her head.

                A loud banging noise brought her away from near sleep. Someone was knocking at her door with what seemed to be a sledgehammer. "What?" she snapped.

                "Can I come in?" Arnold's voice asked.

                _Why's Arnold here?_ "Yeah, I guess."

                He walked in slowly dressed in wrinkled clothes. His eyes had large bags underneath them, and he gingerly was flexing his hand. She narrowed her eyes. "What happened to you?"

                "I slept on your couch," he said as he sat down beside her bed, resting against the nightstand.

                _And that never happens. _"Why?"

                "Because I wanted to make sure that not only were you taken care of, but also that you didn't do anything incredibly stupid."

                She stared at him, and slowly the memory of last night returned to her. "Please tell me that was all a bad dream." 

                Arnold said nothing.

                She sighed. "Great. How many people saw that last night?"

                 He shrugged. "Probably at least a fourth of the school, maybe more."

                She sighed, trying desperately not to cry again. That would cause her poor head too much pain.

                "Take the pills," he said, staring straight ahead.

                She did as she was told. "How's your hand?"

                "Swollen." He began flexing it again. "I should be okay by Monday, but who knows?" He laughed grimly. "I'm just lucky coach gave us today off because he's out of town. Can you imagine having to face Jake this morning?"

                "It won't be half as a bad as you as for me whenever I have to see him."

                Arnold said nothing.

                "I think my head is going to burst."  She covered her face with her hands.

                "That's what you get for drinking Lord knows how many shots of tequila," he said bluntly.

                "I think, under the circumstances, you could at least try to justify my actions." She run a hand through her tangled hair. "If you saw that you'd want to get smashed out of your mind as well."

                He said nothing from the floor.

                She blew a strand out of her face. "Now what?"

                He finally looked at her, the pity in his eyes near enough to make her scream. "You have to play a basketball game in," he looked at his watch. "Seven and a half hours."

                She groaned and fell back. "That should be fun."

                "Not something I'd like to do with a massive hangover." He raised an eyebrow at her before pulling the comforter off the bed.

                "Arnold! What the heck?" she cried.

                He stood up, walked across the room, and pulled the curtains open. Helga screamed as the light poured into her room.

                "Damnit, Football Head, what's wrong with you?"

                He threw the comforter back at her. "Get ready and I'll buy you lunch," he said before shutting the door.

                "Well, doesn't that sound like fun!" she cried sarcastically. "Sleeping would be better."

                He gave no reply, and Helga climbed out of bed, cursing Arnold the entire way to the bathroom.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                "No, just black coffee," Helga replied to Ray twenty minutes later. Her hair was still wet and she was dressed sloppily in sweats and a Washington University sweatshirt. Arnold was sitting across from her still wearing his clothes from the night before.

                "All right, I'll be back with your sandwich," he said to Arnold before leaving.

                Helga took a sip of her coffee. "I should've made you barrow some of my clothes. It looks a little suspicious."

                He snorted as he drank his Coke. "I doubt I could fit into any of your clothes, Helga."

                "You're not that big, Arnold." She laughed. "Heck, sometimes I wonder if you are even any bigger than _me_."

                He glared at her before returning to the newspaper.

                "God, I am so stupid, aren't I?" she said after a few minutes of silence. Try as she might, all she could think of was the previous night.

                "You're not stupid, Helga. I wouldn't call you that."

                She rolled her eyes. "At least not to my face, right?"

                He shrugged. "Don't you want to talk about something else?"

                She sighed and propped her elbow on the table, her head resting her hand. "All I've been thinking about for the last two and a half weeks is my tangled love-life. It's kinda hard to break away from such rituals."

                 Arnold blushed, knowing full well that he played a big part in her plight. "Just a suggestion."

                She laughed coldly. "It clears up my weekends, that's for sure. And school should be interesting on Monday."

                "Thanks," Arnold said as Ray handed him his turkey club. "I wouldn't doubt that."

                "Look, Arnold, I just want to thank you for looking after me yesterday and today."

                Arnold became fully engrossed in his sandwich.

                Helga became equally fascinated with her coffee. "I know how hard this must be for you, and I just want you to know how lucky I feel to have such a great friend."

                _Friend…_ He looked at her. "Don't worry about it, Helga. Sadly I think you'll need more than just one great friend next week."

                She made a face. "What makes you say that?"

                "Your brother-in-law called this morning."

                "Oh?" She tried to sound uninterested and stirred her drink in attempt to play up her façade.

                "Yeah, your parents will be back early next week."

                She groaned. "Great. They _loved_ Jake. They'll be disappointed I let that one get away."

                "He also apologized for missing your pageant, said he really wished he could have gone, and wanted to know how you did," Arnold said coolly.

                Fire flared in Helga's brown eyes. He knew exactly what she was thinking: if her brother-in-law knew the pageant was last weekend, then Olga did as well.

                He really felt bad for Helga's opponents tonight. Helga was normally tough on the floor, but a very, very pissed Helga would be hell itself.

A/N: I'm beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. And it burns. Later days.


	27. Hell Girl

A/N: Honestly, every time I look at my outline so I know what the heck to write I'm shortening this story. But it's for the better, I promise ~_^.

Disclaimer – Same as the last twenty-six chapters. I don't own _Hey Arnold!_

Where to Begin

Chapter 27 – Hell Girl

                Monday, it seemed, had to come.

                Helga figured it would violate some law of physics if it never did, and she did not want to mess with those consequences on top of the problems she already had. The joy of winning sectional long subsided with the threat of her parents' return and the dread of school and most likely a run-in with Jake, the cheating bastard, as Helga now affectionately called him. _May all cheating men burn in hell._

                She slept poorly the night before, ignoring Arnold, Callie, and Phoebe's calls. She did not want to talk to anyone, so she spent most the evening curled up in a ball on her bed, crying as she stared out the window and petting her cat. She cursed herself for it, in the morning, for she did not want to look so sloppy when she went to school. She wanted to look like a knockout, like the whole situation had not fazed her in the least bit.

                She hopped into the shower shortly after five, hoping to drown, but finding no such luck. She spent the next two and a half hours primping herself, again ignoring the phone (she got so sick of the ringing she finally unplugged the it). She smiled grimly at her reflection as she headed out the door; she was made-up, yes, but it looked like she was naturally this beautiful at seven fifteen in the morning without the least bit of effort. She groaned loudly and slammed the door shut.

                _The good thing about waking up at the crack of dawn is you get to school before anyone else._ The halls of West Hillwood High were oddly vacant. Helga went to her locker, grabbed her books, and went to the library where she sat in the corner to read _Nine Stories._

                "There you are. Pheebs and Arnold've been looking all over for you."

                Helga looked up and glared at Gerald. "What the hell are you doing in the library?" She laughed glumly. "I didn't even know you could read."

                Gerald rolled his eyes. "I had to return a book, and I saw you back here." He sat down and looked at her sympathetically. "Hiding out?"

                "What do you think, Sherlock?"

                "Helga, I'm trying to help, so will you try to refrain from biting my head off every two seconds?"

                Helga blushed. "Sorry."

                Gerald nodded. "It's okay. How have you been holding up? Arnold wouldn't say much."

                She returned to her book. "Terribly." She sat the book down. It was not worth the effort to concentrate on it and evade Gerald's questions at the same time, especially since Gerald had a tendency to be just as persistent as Arnold. She looked him straight in the eye. "Gerald, I'm at the end of my rope. I can't take much more."

                Gerald smiled at her. "I wouldn't worry too much about it."

                She sniffed. "What makes you say that?"

                "Think about it, Helga. The whole pain thing of losing Jake will pass. You've got to admit you were never that serious about him. And he'll still be there in the end."

                She looked at him, blinking uncomprehendingly.

                "Just something to think about. C'mon, I'll walk you to class and beat off any assholes, what do you say?"

                She grabbed her stuff, still thinking about what Gerald had said.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                _Thank goodness this day's almost over,_ she thought as she stepped out of the locker room. She had been the last one to leave, hoping to have missed the boys, whose practice ended at the same time. She sighed. She had been lucky all day to have avoided Jake as much as she had. She only saw him twice, both right before she slipped into her classroom with out acknowledging he even existed. It was almost as if he was looking for her. She shrugged. What did it matter anymore? She was through with him; the thought of Jake Richardson made her sick to her stomach. Unfortunately, she had been sick quite often today. It seemed as though unless she was completely absorbed in a task, all she saw when she closed her eyes was Jake and Lila on the bed at Matt's house. _I'll have to shoot myself here soon if that image doesn't fade._ At the moment it was the only practical and fast solution to such a problem.

                "Well, isn't it my favorite little beauty queen?"

                Helga stopped dead. She had just about made it to the double doors leading out to the parking lot, but if she had been paying attention she never would have came this way. Jake was staring at her, his face emotionless, half obscured by a head of long, auburn hair. _Well, this'll be ugly. Should've known with my luck I'd not only have to deal with both of them, but I'd have to be alone as well._ "Well, isn't it my favorite little porn couple." She smiled sweetly as she moved closer to the door. "You two were putting on quite a show the other night."

                "You should've stayed," Jake said silkily, sliding over to block the door, leaving Lila standing awkwardly on the side. "You could've joined us."

                Helga barely resisted the urge to throw up. "Right, Jake, like any self-respecting girl would ever have a threesome with _you_. However, your luck might change if you find someone just like Lila; big boobs, no brain, and a problem with keeping her legs closed."

                His lip curled. Lila, however, was pissed. "You bitch!" she cried, on the verge of tears.

                _What the hell does she have to cry about?_ Helga vaguely wondered, but Jake took care of shutting her up for her.

                "Oh, give it a rest, Lila. She's right."

                Helga turned her attention back to the boy in front of her. "What exactly is it you want?"

                His expression softened. "I just wanted to talk to you."

                She sneered. "Well, sadly the feeling's not mutual." She crossed her arms. "Jake, would you please move?"

                He seemed more determined than ever, his cool manner all but gone. "Helga, please, I _have_ to talk to you."

                She feigned surprise. "But Jake, we already talked at Matt's house," she said in a high-pitched voice. Her voice returned to normal. "Quite loudly, if you don't recall."

                "Helga, please." He reached for her hands.

                "Don't touch me!" she cried. "I've told you everything I want to tell you. I have nothing left to say, and if you were too stupid to infer it, we're over!"

                He held his arms out in desperation. Lila was crying by now. "Helga, I made a mistake—"

                "Mistake? Our whole relationship was a mistake, Jake!" She turned on her heel, determined to get away from him. "I'm finished talking about this, and I'm finished with you."

                He grabbed her and spun her into his arms, pulling her lips up to his own.

                Lila bawled in the background.

                Helga had forgotten just how strong Jake was, but she managed to push him away from her, hitting him with as much force as she could muster. "Jake, STOP IT! You fucked up, pun intended. It's not my fault, so deal with it without me!"

                "Helga, would you just listen to me?" he cried, just as another voice fill the air already crowded with Lila's bawling, Helga's screams, and Jake's shouting.

                "LET HER GO!"

                Jake looked up from Helga, whom he was holding by the wrists. Helga could practically _feel_ her arms being bruised. "Arnold!" she cried.

                "Oh, if it isn't the little knight in shining armor? This doesn't concern you!" Jake thundered, tightening his grip on Helga.

                "Arnold! Oh, Arnold! Please, please help me!" Lila whimpered. She was now crouched down in the corner, looking like a lamb about to be slaughtered.

                He shot a dismal look at her, and turned his attention back to Jake and Helga. "I said let her go."

                Jake looked down at Helga. "Can we ever have a moment alone?" he hissed.

                "Depends. Does Lila count, _my dear?" _she hissed.

                He twisted her arms, causing Helga to cry out in pain. "Let go of me!"

                "JAKE!" Arnold cried, afraid of what Jake would do to Helga if he got closer. He had completely lost it; there was no other explanation.

                "FOR THE LAST TIME, THIS DOESN'T CONCERN YOU!"

                Lila's sobs were deafening. "Shut up!" the two boys screamed together.

                Jake laughed. "Looks like we finally agree on something."

                "Why are you doing this?" Arnold demanded.

                Jake didn't respond. He was staring at Helga with a dazed look in his eyes. Had she not been blinded by tears, she would have noticed.

                "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?"

                His head snapped up. "Because I'm trying to get the girl I love back."

                Helga's heart stopped. "Love?" she asked. _Good Lord, he has gone off the deep end._

He loosened his grip on her drastically, mistaking the tone of her voice as caring. "Yes," he whispered, staring intently into her eyes.

                Helga dropped to the floor, her arms sliding out of his grip. She scooted herself backwards, stopping as soon as she hit Arnold's legs.

                "Helga, didn't you hear me?" Jake pleaded.

                "DON'T talk to her," Arnold hissed. 

                "Helga, please…" he started walking towards her.

                "Arnold…"

                "What do I need to do to make you understand?" Jake asked, a hardness coming back into his voice. He reached for Helga, but Arnold was quick to react as Helga screamed. For the second time in four days, he hit Jake Richardson.

                Jake fell to the ground in a heap. Again, he was not expecting that out of the usually calm and passive Arnold, but he seemed to change personalities quickly whenever Helga was in danger. He glared at Arnold as he helped Helga up. "Helga," he whispered, but his head was pounding too much.

                "Are you okay?" he asked, but she was shaking far too much to answer.

                He followed her as she went to the door. Lila's eyes were wider than ever, but she had finally shut up a bit after Arnold slugged Jake. She looked up at him, fear and desperation filling her blue eyes.

                "You take care of him," he snapped at her. He felt no remorse as she again burst into tears. She was as much at fault as Jake.

                Gerald, who had been waiting in the parking lot for Arnold, ran over to them. "What took you so long?" he asked Arnold before setting his eyes on a still quivering Helga. "And what's wrong with her?"

                "We, uh, just had a run in with Jake," he said simply.

                "WHAT? Did he attack her?"

                "Uh, yeah, but—"

                "ARNOLD!"

                "It's okay, I hit him—"

                Gerald groaned. "Aw, Arnold, you call that okay? Damn, man, you're gonna get busted for fighting on school, then we'll all be in a whole heap of trouble."

                Arnold rolled his eyes. "Gerald, I didn't beat him to a pulp, although the thought has crossed my mind on a number of occasions…"

                "Arnold, that doesn't make it any better!"

                "I was protecting a fellow student, okay?" he pleaded as they reached Helga's car. She was still shaking uncontrollably.

                "Aw, shit, he really has lost it, hasn't he?"

                Arnold shrugged as he opened the door for Helga. "I suppose…"

                "You suppose?" His face became fearful. "Arnold, you aren't leaving her alone tonight, are you?"

                "What? Why do you say that?" he asked as he shut the passenger door.

                "Because, if Jake's willing to attack her at school, who's to say he won't at her house?"

                Arnold looked blasé. "Gerald, get a grip. Jake just lost control of an argument. Helga probably touched a nerve or ten. She's known to do that. Jake's not murderous, he's just…obsessive." He stopped, realizing that one was not much better than the other.

                Gerald was dismayed. "You have got to be kidding me! Arnold, you can't leave her alone tonight!"

                "Gerald, please, I'm probably the last person she needs, or wants, babysitting her. I'm just going to drive her to work—"

                "You're going to make her work?"

                Arnold scowled. "I said I'm going to _take_ her there. If she's up to working, than she will. If she's not, she's not. As for tonight, her parents are due home sometime early this week. They can look after her."

                "Oh, yeah, fat chance, Arnold! That's like switching your punishment from the gallows to the guillotine! Either way, you die!"

                Arnold crossed his arms. _This is getting old._ "Gerald, nothing, I repeat, nothing is going to happen to Helga tonight, other than she might drop a cappuccino on some guy's head, to which I say he probably deserved it for ordering the drink in the first place."

                Gerald glared at him for a moment before admitting defeat and returning to his own car. "I'm assuming this means you don't need a ride."

                Arnold rolled his eyes. "Very good, Sherlock."

                Gerald's eyes narrowed even more. "You better be right."

                Arnold yawned. "I'm tired, so you know what? If Helga does get in any danger tonight, I'll have her call you."

                Gerald gave him one last pleading look, and turned without looking back.

                "If that's not enough proof he cares about Helga, I don't know what is," he muttered. He was slightly disturbed that he was so calm about the whole situation, but drama seemed to be the norm lately, he could not help but be jaded. He climbed into the car and started towards the Oleander café. "How you feeling?"

                He was surprised to see Helga was dressed in her uniform, her hair pulled back in a clip. Before she was in sweats and a sweatshirt, her wet hair soaking through them. _Damn it,_ he could not help but think. She had changed while he was arguing with Gerald. _Bad thought, bad thought,_ but he still could not help from smiling.

                "Fine, smiley," she snapped.

                He looked at her wrists. Little bruises shaped like fingerprints were beginning to appear. "Right."

                She followed his gaze and blushed. "Keep your eyes on the road."

                He shrugged and turned the radio up.

                "Thank you."

                "Huh?" he turned the volume back down.

                "I said thank you."

                Arnold bit his lip on accident. "Oh. No problem."

                She eyed him carefully. "Are you stalking me?"

                He scoffed. "Helga, after all that you think _I'm_ the one stalking you?" He paused. "That reminds me, if anything funny happens tonight—"

                "I agreed with you when you were fighting with Gerald." She laughed grimly. "You two seem to've switched places. Phoebe better keep a better hold on her man."

                Arnold blushed until he was sure his face really was on fire. Luckily it was dark enough Helga did not notice.

                "She apologized to me today about what she thought of the whole mess. She said to pass along the message."

                Arnold frowned. "Why didn't she just tell me?"

                Helga played with her nails. "I think she was afraid of your reaction. She really does feel bad about how she treated you."

                Pause. "She told you everything?" he asked slowly.

                She bit her lip in thought. "Mmm, pretty much."

                _And just when my face was beginning to feel like normal,_ he thought grimly as he flushed again.

                "Anyways," she said loudly. "I'm glad you've taken a keen interest in my whereabouts lately."

                He said nothing.

                "Arnold?"

                "I heard you, Helga. I heard you." He banged a fist on the steering wheel. "What happened to when we could just talk about the stupidest stuff and that was all right?" he asked, frustrated as he pulled into the employee parking lot.

                She got out and took the keys from him. "Things change."

                _They certainly have,_ they both thought.

¤ ~ ¤ ~ ¤

                _Only and hour and a half more and this horrible day will be over,_ Helga thought happily as she skipped up the stairs to her house.  The sky above was threatening rain, but it was still dry. Helga breathed in deeply. She loved the smell before rain. Work had run over a bit, but she was so happy to be home she did not notice the light on in the window.

                She hummed softly as she fumbled with her keys. She was going to take a long, hot shower and then go straight to bed. _Screw the homework_, she thought as she put the key in the lock, only to find out she did not have to; it was already unlocked.

                Her blood ran cold. Arnold's words rang clearly in her ears. "_That reminds me, if anything funny happens tonight—"_

Her reply was also clear. _"I agreed with you when you were fighting with Gerald."_ Basic translation: Back off, nothing will happen. There was no worse feeling than having to eat your own words.

                She caught sight of the ugly purple circles on her arms. _Oh, shit_. She swallowed hard, and while keeping a firm grip on her key ring, she slowly opened the door. "Hello?" she called, her voice amazingly strong considering her entire body was shaking.

                "Oh, Helga, there you are. Your father and I were worried sick," Miriam said as if she had just found her missing earring. Except she might be more excited about that than seeing her youngest daughter for the first time in a week and half.

                "Yeah, and why's this place a mess?" Bob grumbled as he walked passed. "A week and a half alone. You'd think she'd use some of that boatload of free time of hers to clean up around here."

                "I've been busy, Bob," she spat through gritted teeth, not that he would stick around to talk to her anyways.

                "There's my baby sister!" Olga cried in her annoying falsetto voice, hugging Helga tight enough to squeeze the life out of her (a welcoming thought, actually. Helga half wished Olga _would_ squeeze tighter and just get it over with). "Ooh, you get prettier and prettier every time I see you," she said, lightly tapping the end of Helga's nose as she pulled away and set off in her father's direction.

                _Just not as pretty as you,_ Helga thought loathingly.

                "Helga!" Eric, her brother-in-law, cried as he hugged her. As usual, he was the only one who seemed genuinely happy to see her. "I got you something to make up for missing your pageant."

                "Oh, thanks," she said dumbly, taking the small square package. He was too sweet; she could not help but adore him, although he had a tendency to forget she was sixteen, not six. _Here's one boy who's dying to be a father._ "How'd you know?" she asked as she opened the package. She did not have the heart to tell him she already owned the All-American Rejects CD. She would just have to give it to Phoebe or Arnold.

                "I remember you humming it at Christmas," he said, beaming at her. Helga smiled, thankful his teeth were not any whiter or she would be blind. She hugged him again before he left to join the others.

                _"I got you something to make up for missing your pageant,"_ his words echoed in her head as she put her things in her room. _Not "We got you something…"_

_                I always said he was too good for her._

She went downstairs into the living room. In spite of herself, she was very interested to hear about her parents' trip. _This better be good_, she thought as she leaned against the doorway.

                "Oh, Helga, there you are!" Olga cried.

                "You just keep losing me, eh, Olga?" she muttered softly. _Wish I could lose you all._

"Now you can hear all about our trip!"

                "Oh, please, I've been dying to hear about it."

                Only Eric seemed to catch the sarcasm. He was bewildered as he looked from his wife to her sister.

                "Oh, I can't believe we did so much!" Olga shrieked.

                "I know, dear. It was a wonderful trip," Miriam said, sipping her coffee and looking like she desperately needed a drink.

                "One of the best, but anything would be the best with you, Olga," Big Bob continued as he cracked open a beer. Miriam gazed at it longingly.

                Helga felt like throwing up. _And I was angry they were gone?_ She turned to leave, tired and fed-up.

                "Didn't I tell you it would be _tons_ more fun than that dingy pageant?" Olga squealed, clapping her hands like a two-year-old.

                Helga was floored. She did not hear anything else; the blood pumping in her ears blocked everything.

                Eric caught a glimpse of Helga. After a moment, he put two and two together. "Olga, dear," he said lowly.

                But it was too late. Helga had already run out.

A/N: What's wrong with the spacing in this joint? Later days. 


	28. Come Clean

A/N: Two more days left of school. I can't wait.

Chapter 17 is fixed. A little different, but I still like it.

Disclaimer – I don't own _Hey Arnold!_

Where to Begin

Chapter 28 – Come Clean

                Helga did not run to Arnold's, although that was where she planned to seek refuge when she ran madly out of the house. His words were no longer pounding in her brain. They had been replaced by Olga's.

                She chewed her lip as the rain continued to fall. She had ran to just a block short of Sunset Arms before stopping. _Arnold's had to deal with too much of my drama already._ She did not want to go over there, although she knew he would not mind helping her. She cast one last fleeting look at his window before turning around. She was sick of appearing so weak in front of him (though he would never say that). Why this was suddenly so important to her, she did not know, but she knew that he was still hurt from the whole mess (another thing he would never say).

                _I'm an idiot,_ she thought as she started running again. She was still dressed in her uniform, her thin white shirt soaked through and her black skirt was sticking to her legs. She had run out of the house without her keys or any money. Not exactly the smartest thing to do on a rainy night in the middle of a big city.

                She finally reached her destination and rang the doorbell.

                "Helga?" Phoebe asked when she came to the door.

                "Hey," she replied, laughing slightly for some reason. Of course, the look on Phoebe's face when she saw a very pathetic-looking Helga was somewhat comical, but Helga figured it was too much stress that was causing her to crack up.

                Phoebe looked her up and down in disbelief. "Well, hurry up and get in before you drown."

                Ten minutes later, Helga was sitting cross-legged on the floor in Phoebe's living room, dressed in Phoebe's clothes and wrapped up in a western-style blanket. She sipped the hot chocolate that Phoebe's mother had made for her before she went to bed. Phoebe sat down across from her, collecting her homework.

                "Well, Helga, I suppose that you wouldn't mind me asking why you decided to drop by dripping wet at our doorstep at," she looked at the clock, "five minutes after eleven at night?"

                Helga grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, but I didn't know where else to go. Was your mom mad?"

                "No, just confused, I think. You didn't answer me."

                She sighed. "The fam's home."

                "Oh." She paused. "_Oh._ Well, what did you find out?"

                Helga gripped the cup so tightly she was afraid it would break. "Olga knew exactly what day the pageant was. She even told my parents they would have a better time up in Toronto than at the pageant."

                Phoebe looked unsure of what to do. "Oh, Helga!" she cried before throwing herself at her. "Oh, Helga, that's terrible."

                "Well, that's just the Pataki blood showing in her." She sighed. "Eric seemed genuinely sorry for missing it, although I don't think he knew about it until later."

                Phoebe made a face. "I always thought he was too good for your sister."

                "That makes two of us."

                Phoebe stared at her. "Well, now what?"

                Helga shook her head. "I don't really know. I guess start to put my life back together."

¤ -¤ - ¤

                Helga yawned. She was tired from having to run back home early in the morning and grab some clothes and her book bag. Against her better judgment she let a note on the kitchen counter to tell her parents she would be staying at Phoebe's for a while. She figured she might as well; Olga may miss torturing her and demand her parents call the police to make Helga come home, and that was not how she wanted the situation to unfold. She would come home whenever she damn well felt like it.

                The library was nearly empty. She read page fifty-seven of her book for what seemed like the fifth time. _Hemmingway must've been drunk when he said all modern American literature comes from _Huck Finn_,_ she thought, rubbing her forehead in attempt to ease the headache brewing behind her eyes. _I need a vacation._

                "Can I sit down?"

                She bit her lip out of pure frustration. "Get the hell away from me."

                "Helga, please, I _need _to talk to you."

                "Are you a complete idiot? I talked to you on Friday. I talked to you yesterday, and I'm honestly surprised that you have the audacity after that to come and try to talk to me again." She glared up at him.

                Jake really looked pitiful. His hair was disheveled, as were his clothes. He was paler than usual, making the dark circles under his eyes more noticeable. Helga was definitely looking like she had come out at the better end of the relationship, and she was the one who was cheated on. He took in a deep breath. "Helga, I'm so sorry about that. I just…I just lost my temper. I mean, I was drunk the first time and Arnold and Lila and…" he stopped. "It was all too much."

                She gave him a long stare before pushing the chair across from her into his legs. "Whatever you have to say to me, do it fast," she snapped.

                He sat down and was quiet for a few moments, trying to collect his thoughts.

                "Before I die, Richardson."

                "I never meant it to turn out this way, Helga. You have to believe that."

                She turned a page in her book. "You know, your word doesn't count for a lot anymore."

                "I know." He held his hands open on the table. "And in the beginning it was for everything I said it was." Helga noticed he was sidestepping repeating exactly what he had planned in the beginning. Either he did not want to cause her more pain and anger, or he wanted to make himself sound as best as possible (she guessed more the second than the first). "But the more I got to know you, the more I realized this wasn't a game. Helga, I cared for you. I still do. Hell, I half-way think that at this point I'm in love with you, which is why I did what I did, because I was scared that I felt that for you, and I know that I can never have you again. I lost that chance, and I'll be kicking myself for a long time because of it, but please, please don't walk away from this thinking that I only wanted to hurt you, because in the end, I promise you, I didn't."

                She looked bored, but in reality she was drinking in his words. Looking back, she could see all the warning signs, such as why he forgave her so quickly when she kissed Arnold, but many of the things were too sincere to contradict the fact that somewhere along the lines he messed up and actually stared to care for her. The look on his face, so unbelievably pathetic yet open, so unlike his normal bravado and cockiness, proved he was not conning her again. "Why did you do it?" she whispered.

                "I don't know anymore. I thought I did, but I'm not sure of anything anymore, only that I love you and that I will never get a chance to be with you ever again." He rubbed his hair furiously, making it look much worse. "I'm a mess right now, Helga, and I know I deserve it. I'll change because of this, I know that, but I have to know something."

                She eyed him. _I thought I was the only one who needed, and deserved for that matter, answers._ "What's that?"

                He seemed afraid to ask her. "Are you in love with him?" he asked after he finally found the courage.

                "With who?"

                "Arnold."

                She sat her book down. "Probably. I'm not really sure of anything either."

                He hesitated. "What about when we were…still together?"

                She sighed. "At times, yes, but at times I felt just as strongly for you."

                He looked away, heartbroken.

                "Jake, you have to understand. I loved the boy for years when we were younger. Yes, _love,_" she said as a skeptical look washed over his morose face. "I managed to get over it for a while; I practically had to in order to save my sanity. After all, you saw him chase after Lila."

                He gave her a sympathetic look but did not miss the edge of her voice when she said the name.

                "But the whole pageant thing and everything else has just made me realize that I probably do." She sighed. "I don't really want to think about it right now, I've got other things on my mind, but to me perfectly honest with you, our relationship wouldn't have lasted much longer. I was too confused about how I felt about you and how I felt about Arnold that I would've ended it and probably spent a month avoiding both of you until my head was on straight. I hate merry-go-rounds, literally and metaphorically." She smiled slightly. "It never would've lasted for forever, and I think both you and I know that." She laughed. "I just felt like you understood me, but I guess you never really did at all."

                Jake looked thoughtful. "No, I guess I didn't." He stared intently at her. "And I still managed to fall in love with you."

                "I'm sorry about that," she said softly, and the two spent the next several minutes looking anywhere but at each other.

                "So that's that, I guess," Jake said.

                "Yeah, a bitter end, but at least it got an end."

                He stood up. "I'm so sorry, Helga—"

                "I know, Jake. I know." She paused. "So am I."

                He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "So this is it, huh?"

                She ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah."

                He kissed her forehead. "Goodbye, Helga, my Miss America."

                Helga managed to choke back her tears. "Bye, Jake."

                He gave her one last fleeting look before leaving.

                She picked up her book, hiding her face as a tear rolled down her cheek. "What's done is done, and I think Huck would agree with me."

¤ -¤ - ¤

                "You look terrible, and I mean that in the nicest possible way."

                Helga did not even have to look up from her salad. "Hey, Arnold."

                He glanced down at her plate as he sat down. "Since when do you eat rabbit food?"

                "Give it a break, Arnold. I know why you're here."

                He snorted. "Helga, I eat lunch with you practically every day. I hardly would call my presence a mystery."

                "Phoebe talked to you and persuaded you to talk some sense into me because you are apparently the only one who can," she said hollowly.

                Arnold struggled for a moment to form words. "This whole thing is becoming rather cliché, isn't it?" He eyed her. "Somehow I don't think running away is what's on your mind at the moment."

                "I talked to Jake this morning."

                Arnold's eyes narrowed, and Helga noticed the grip on his water tighten. "And what did he have to say?" His face softened as he looked her up and down. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

                She shook her head. "No, it was kinda like closure, although I don't believe in that shit." She sighed. "He said he loved me."

                Arnold watched her carefully. "And?"

                "And I told him I was sorry for that." She finally looked at Arnold. "It's all over, Arnold. Jake and I are through, and he knows it. It's okay now."

                "Are you okay?"

                She bit her lip. "I don't know. I mean, I don't want to even be around him, but still…" her words trailed off.

                He put his hand on her shoulder. "You have to go home, Helga. It's the only way you can move on from all this."

                She stared at him. "I'm so sorry, Arnold!" she cried and ran out of the lunchroom.

                He watched her, deciding against running after her. Helga needed to figure things out for herself. In spite of himself, Arnold could not help but smile. Helga and Jake were finally over. _She can finally be mine._ He frowned. _But can she handle it?_

¤ -¤ - ¤

                Helga slammed the door. "Where's Olga?" she bellowed. Her plan had been to be rational and understanding, but that all went out the window the minute she stepped inside her house. The emotional stress of the past few weeks had finally caused her to crack, and she was seeing red.

                Eric crept slowly into the kitchen. "Good afternoon, Helga. How was your day?"

                She glared at him. "Oh, grow a pair, please! Where's my sister?" she demanded.

                Eric swallowed hard. "She's-she's—"

                "Out with it!"

                "She's upstairs," he said quickly, his face white. "Helga, please, sit with me for a moment."

                "Eric, I've had one hell of a shitty week and a half, and I'm about to explode. I highly doubt you want to be on the receiving end of it."

                "Helga, please –"

                "Oh, I won't hit her," Helga snapped as she headed upstairs. _At least not too hard._

                She threw open Olga's room. "You fucking bitch."

                Olga turned around from her vanity. "Baby sister!"

                "DON'T CALL ME THAT!"

                Olga swallowed hard. "Where have you been?" she said in a cold tone completely alien to her.

                "Away from this hellhole."

                "Don't call it that. Mommy and Daddy do a lot for you—"

                "Correction, Olga, Bob and Miriam do a lot for you!" Helga shot back. "Oh, wait, they did give a damn about me, so you had to steal them away to Toronto on the biggest day of my life!"

                Olga looked away.

                "Damn it, Olga, I deserve an explanation! You knew about the pageant, so why the hell would you do that?"

                She remained silent.

                Anger pounded through Helga. She picked up a vase from Olga's nightstand and threw it across the room, narrowly missing her sister's head. "ANSWER ME!"

                "I don't know!" she cried. Olga burst into tears, her sobs deafening.

                Helga could not believe her ears. "What the hell do you mean you don't know?"

                "I don't know, I don't know!" She sniffed. "It's not fair!"

                "Tell me, Olga, how the fuck is it not fair for you?"

                "I live 3000 miles away from them, damn it! You live in the same house as them!"

                "Not by choice! I'd trade places with you in an instant!"

                "WOULD YOU STOP IT, HELGA?" She was panting. "They love you too much to treat them like that!"

                "You don't get it, do you?" Helga was in disbelief. "How the hell could you take them away from me when I need them? Are you that jealous of me?"

                Olga's sobs grew louder.

                "Shut up and answer me!"

                "Yes, alright, yes!" she cried. "All they did while they were in Canada was talk about you. I had to lie about the pageant to get them to come. I said it was a preliminary at your school and that you would win easily, so they didn't need to go. When they came home they still thought the actual one this weekend."

                Helga stared at her in disbelief. "They didn't forget about me?"

                She laughed. "No. No, they didn't forget about you." She took in a deep breath. "They're just forgetting about me!"

                Helga watched dumbly as her sister bawled her eyes out. She never thought about how Olga had taken the move to Toronto or how she felt about being so far away from her family. She had always been Bob and Miriam's golden girl, but while she really was not entirely being replaced by Helga, she was being replaced. Olga no longer was the center of their world; that would be work. Her parents missing the pageant was not an act of terrible parenting. It was an act of desperation. She walked over to her sister. "Olga, they're not forgetting about you."

                "Yes, they are!"

                "Then you're stupider than I give you credit for. So maybe things are different now, but you have to except that. Let go, Olga. Start your own family and let go of this one."

                Olga reached for a tissue and blew her nose. Below Bob and Miriam were talking to Eric.

                Helga walked out of the room.

                "Helga, wait!"

                She turned around.

                "Are we okay now?"

                Helga scoffed. "Olga, we'll never be okay. I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn't change it." She sighed. "For once in your life please be realistic. We're just too different. We'll never have that perfect sister relationship that you long for, so please let go of that as well. I need to go talk to Mom and Dad."

                Olga continued to cry as Helga left, but she did not care. As far as she was concerned, Olga should be happy she did not beat the tar about of her. Helga walked down stairs, meeting Eric at the bottom. "She's all yours now," she hissed. She pushed him out of her way and continued into the kitchen. "I'm sorry for running away," she said softly.

                "Helga! Oh, honey, we were so worried!" Miriam cried she and Bob ran over to Helga.

                "I know," she said tearfully.

                "Oh, Helga, I can't believe we missed your pageant. Poor Olga was misinformed!" She squeezed her daughter tightly.

                "It's okay, Mom." Helga pulled away. "I know you wanted to be there."

                Bob looked down at her. "You okay, little lady?"

                "I am now."

¤ -¤ - ¤

                Arnold looked through the window at the three in Helga's kitchen. He had been walking trying to clear his head, and he managed to find his way to her house while in his reverie. He knew it was not Helga's fairytale ending, but who ever really ends up with theirs?  He smiled to himself as he walked away.

                "Welcome back, Helga."

A/N: Almost to the end. Later days.


	29. Love's Labor Lost

A/N: Finally, the source of inspiration of the whole fic is revealed. Thank you, BFS!

Disclaimer – I don't own _Hey Arnold!_

Where to Begin

Chapter 29 – Love's Labor Lost

                "How do I look?"

                "Like an overgrown penguin."

                Arnold rolled his eyes as he smoothed out the sleeve of his tuxedo. _I should have known better than to ask Grandpa for fashion advice. _"Thanks, Grandpa."

                "No problem, Short Man." He took a large bite of his sandwich. "Speaking of which, that girl isn't going to wear heels, is she?"

                "Grandpa, I'm not _that_ short anymore. I'm a good four inches taller than Helga."

                "Really? Who'd a thunk it?" Phil frowned. "Where's your Grandma?"

                Arnold shrugged but watched with mild interest as his grandmother slowly walked down the stairs humming "God Save the Queen."

                "Lordy, Pookey, we're not in England anymore!" Phil cried.

                "I've come to see Prince Edward off," she said in a high, English accent. She was dressed as if she planed to go the Miss Hillwood Pageant Banquet with Arnold. By the look and smell of the dress Arnold guessed it was over thirty years old. He could not help but wrinkle his nose as she hugged him. "You have a good time with that wonderful princess of yours, Eddie. And behave yourself, for the Crown's sake."

                Arnold laughed. "No problem, Grandma." He picked up his coat as a horn sounded outside. "I'll be back by twelve."

                "Bye, Arnold!"

                "Au revie, Eddie!"

                Arnold was shaking his head as he quickly ran out to Gerald's car. Phoebe was already in the front seat. "Hurry, Arnold!" she cried as he slid into the back seat. "It looks like it could rain anytime."

                He stared out the window into the black sky. "Well, that could be bad." He looked at the clock. "You're running late."

                Phoebe cast a dark look at Gerald. "Well, we would've been on time had someone not had to spend a half hour primping his hair."

                "Hey, I look good, thank you very much."

                Arnold sat back as they continued arguing, glad that for the past two weeks he and Helga had been on good terms, much unlike Gerald and Phoebe. Their relationship seemed to be taking a turn for the worse, Ike and Tina Turner-style, minus the domestic violence. He smiled to himself as he thought of Helga. She seemed to be getting along well with her parents, although she was currently angry with them because they were out of town and thus unable to attend the banquet, but she knew it was nothing they could help. Business was business. Olga and Eric were gone, and she was once again happily home alone with her cat.

                Gerald and Phoebe were still shouting when they reached Helga's house. "I'll go get her," Arnold said, although he doubted either heard him. He sighed and ran up Helga's stoop. He did not need to ring the doorbell; Helga opened the door as soon as he reached the stop step.

                "Obviously we're going for the fashionable late route tonight, yes?" she said sarcastically as she slipped out the door. She glared at him as he stood staring at her, eyes wide and mouth open. "I'm up here, Football Head."

                He smiled shyly. "You look beautiful, Helga." Her blonde hair was piled softly on top of her head with a few curls escaping, framing her face. He somehow thought it was fitting that she would be wearing a pink dress.

                She blushed. "Thank you, Arnold. But why isn't my date escorting me to the car?"

                Arnold groaned. "Because your date is preoccupied at the moment with his girlfriend." He motioned to the car.

                "They're fighting again?"

                "Should make for an interesting evening," Arnold said as they began walking back to the car.

                She shrugged. "Who wouldn't love a visit from Ike and Tina, minus the domestic violence?"

                Arnold smiled. "My point exactly." He and Helga spent the rest of the car ride playing "I Spy" while Phoebe and Gerald continued arguing about anything and everything, including the color of her hair. Arnold leaned over to Helga. "How about we let them do what they want tonight, and we'll just try to stay away?" he whispered.

                "Agreed."

                Thankfully they arrived at the Women's Club shortly thereafter, and Helga and Arnold quickly hopped out of the car, Gerald and Phoebe slowly descending. Helga grabbed Gerald's arm, nearly knocking him over. "C'mon, we're late enough as it is."

                Arnold turned to Phoebe who was glaring at the two running away. "Is everything okay?"

                "What the hell do you think, Arnold?" she snapped.

                He did not say anything more as they climbed the steps into the magnificent building. Tiny Christmas lights hung from the trees and tall, old-fashioned lampposts laminated the walk. The light from inside the building made it glow against the dark night sky. "Name?" the man at a podium just inside the door asked.

                "Arnold. I'm with the crew, and this is my guest," he replied, gesturing to Phoebe, who reluctantly smiled.

                "Right. Table twelve with Miss Pataki and guest, and Miss Hayeworth, who is with a Mr. Whitman." He snapped his fingers. "Horatio will show you to your table."

                A very large man who looked quite awkward in his tux led the two to their table. Callie looked gorgeous as usual beside Josh, who looked quite uncomfortable in his pinstriped tux. Arnold raised an eyebrow at the two, only to receive the same from Callie and Josh.

                "Why are you here with Gerald's girlfriend, and why is Gerald here with Helga?" Josh asked as Phoebe excused herself to the bathroom.

                "It was the only way we could get them to come, and they really wanted to come with us." He watched Phoebe storm past Gerald as he got himself punch. "Though at the moment I wish we would've left them at home." He frowned. "Why'd you two come together?"

                Callie shrugged. "Seemed like the thing to do." Her eyes narrowed. "And we're just here as friends."

                Josh looked away.

                "Okay…"Arnold said slowly.

                "Callie! And Josh?" Helga cried as she arrived at their table.

                "Don't ask," Josh answered grumpily.

                "What's wrong with them?" Helga whispered to Arnold.

                Arnold frowned. "Let's just say Josh isn't getting what he wanted."

                Helga shrugged. Arnold caught his breath as she intertwined her fingers with his. "They're going to serve us here pretty quick. Where'd Gerald and Pheebs run off to?"

                "Hard telling," he whispered, still in great surprise.

                Helga glanced at him questioningly, but he was saved from an expected uncomfortable situation by Callie's outburst. "Look what the cat dragged in!"

                Helga and Arnold turned their heads to the entrance. Lila had walked in, alone. Helga's fingers slipped from Arnold's. Her face had turned a slight shade of pink. Obviously she was not over the events that had occurred in the past weeks. He sighed, but he could not help but catch the hopeful glance Lila gave him as she walked by. Beside him Helga looked even more upset than before. "You all right?" he asked her.

                She laughed weakly and gave him a forced smile. "Sure. Why not?"

                "Helga—"

                "I'm going to go find Phoebe and Gerald. You know, it's dinner and all." She walked away, chewing her lip nervously.

                Arnold slid down in his seat, tapping his fingers anxiously as he watched her walk away.

                "You know, now would be a great time to tell her," Callie said as she sipped her water, leaving the rim a greasy pink from her lip-gloss.

                "Tell whom what?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the blond until she left the room and ventured into the lobby.

                Callie smiled at him like a Cheshire cat. "You should tell Helga you love her."

                Both Arnold and Josh spit out their water. "Okay, that's just disgusting," Callie muttered.

                "You were clipping your toenails on the way over here, so you've got no room to talk," Josh shot back. "And what are you talking about? That'd be murder-suicide."

                Callie scoffed. "What's wrong with the present? It's a romantic evening. Helga's going to be honored so she'll be on cloud nine. Arnold looks as good as he's ever going to. It's perfect."

                "Helga just came out of an ugly break-up. She's not ready for something this heavy."

                "Guys," Arnold interjected.

                Callie threw her hands in the air in disgust. "You're so unromantic. She needs Arnold to come and save her from all her problems, to whisk her away from all her heartache, to just take her in his arms and tell her how much he loves her." Her voice trailed off, and her eyes misted over as she sunk into her own reverie.

                "Guys?"

                Josh began snapping his fingers in front of her face. "Callie, if you haven't noticed, Arnold's not exactly Humphrey Bogart or Cary Grant or Clark Gable or whatever other old movie star your in love with this week. And this isn't a movie. It's real. Helga's not ready for this."

                "Guys!"

                Callie grabbed Josh's hand and looked as if she was about to snap if off.

                "Ah-hmm," Arnold cleared his throat and nodded toward the man standing behind the two.

                Callie and Josh followed his gaze speechlessly.

                "And who ordered the grilled salmon?" the maitre d' asked.

                Callie's face blushed to a violent shade of red. "That would be me."

                Arnold leaned across the table as soon as he was finished serving. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Helga, Phoebe, and Gerald quickly approaching. "How about you let me worry about Helga, huh?"

                Callie glared at him and shrugged. "Fine. It's your choice to waste perfect happiness," she muttered.

                Arnold swiftly kicked her.

                "Ow!"

                "Arnold!" Helga scolded. Callie stuck out her tongue at him as the three sat down.

                He crossed his arms as Helga sat down beside him. "It's not my fault Callie's a bi—"

                "Arnold!"

                He smiled at her as he took a bit of his steak. "Sorry, Helga, but you know me, always honest."

                Helga laughed in spite of herself. "Oh, Callie, he's right, but we love you anyways." she said. Callie glared at them.

                Mrs. Chadwick began speaking as the guests ate. Arnold was having difficulty keeping his food down as Gerald and Phoebe being far too lovey-dovey in public for his taste. He leaned over to Helga who was humming softly, not paying any attention to Chadwick. "So I'm guessing the two made up?" he asked lowly.

                "And made out. I caught them in the coatroom," she answered between bites. "I'm trying not to look over at them. I'm afraid I'll throw up."

                Arnold laughed. "I was about to say the same thing."

                She giggled. "Don't make me laugh. People are staring at us."

                "So? And they're probably staring at them, not us. It's revolting, really. I mean, I'm trying to eat here. How can I concentrate on my food and Mrs. Chadwick's wonderful, earth-moving, history-changing speech with my two best friends on the urge of groping in front of everyone?" He looked thoughtful. "I suppose some might call it a beautiful moment between lovers, but I just call it disgusting."

                She had to cover her mouth to hide her laugher, but her dark eyes were dancing. "Arnold, seriously, shut up," she hissed at him.

                Arnold winked at her. "Helga, you don't understand. Gerald's beating me."

                Helga smirked at him. "Hon, Gerald's been beating you in that department for a long time."

                He groaned. "I know, but never so openly in public." He leaned towards her. His warm breath in her ear sent shivers down her spine. "Helga, I'm afraid I'm going to have to start groping you under the table just to keep up and save what little dignity I have left." He placed his hand on her thigh. "I'm sorry, but you are going to have to take one for the team."

                Helga grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that." To his surprise, she did not let go. "Not in public. I've got a reputation to maintain."           

                He smiled at her, suddenly much more shy than he had been a minute before. "Be careful, I might hold you to that," he whispered.

                "And I might not let you forget." She squeezed his hand gently.

                Around them the crowd burst into a loud applause. They managed to break their gaze with each other and look up at the stage. The contestants who were not in the top five were being awarded their scholarships. They paid attention as Mr. Sorres talked about Callie, Sabrina Verducci, and Jacquelyn McKinley, but it was only so they would not be staring at each other. Beside Helga Josh was watching the two with much interest (Callie had gone up to the front to receive her award), at least when he was not staring at Callie. Under the table Helga still had not removed her hand from Arnold's.

                "And now one of our pageant coaches Mr. Daniel Samson would like to say a few words about this years runner-up. Mr. Samson."

                The crowd applauded as Samson walked up to the podium, staring at Sorres as if he wanted desperately to punch him. "Thank you, Mr. Sorres. I wasn't supposed to talk tonight, but I felt that a few things should be said about this young lady, and since I worked with her the most I felt that I should be the one to do it."

                "Oh God," Helga muttered, closing her eyes tightly.

                "I knew Miss Pataki would be at least in the top five the minute I saw her, and not only because I knew of her sister, who is a former Miss Hillwood. I knew because she was charming, talented, and breathtaking. She worked the hardest of any of the girls here, wowing the crowd with her lead in _All that Jazz_, giving life to the show in only a way she could. I have to admit that I was ridiculously hard on her, and I think she still hates me, but I must admit I am very proud at how far she has come along, and she would have been wonderful without me. I'm not taking anything away from the lovely Miss Andrews, but in my eyes there is another this year deserving of the title, and I'm glad to have had the honor to work with her."

                "He didn't just say that, did he?" Helga pleaded to Arnold.

                He nodded.

                "Oh, Sarah's going to kill me!"

                "Ladies and gentlemen, please give a much deserved hand to the winner of a $5000 scholarship, the lovely Miss Helga Pataki."

                The room exploded with a thundering roar. Arnold squeezed her hand after Helga failed to move. "Helga, go!"

                She smiled at him and nervously walked up to Samson. To her amazement, he hugged her. "You shouldn't have said that about me deserving to be Miss Hillwood instead of Sarah," she whispered as he held her.

                "Well, it's true and you know it. Besides, I'm hoping to get kicked out of this whole thing."

                She laughed. "I'll miss you."

                He pulled away. "I doubt it, but thank you all the same."

                She accepted her check from Mr. Sorres and stood beside Jacquelyn as Mr. Sorres introduced Sarah. Arnold was watching her the whole time, and Helga felt her stomach do somersaults as her heart did back flips. _I love him. I still love him,_ she thought as she smiled back at him. Tears were coming to her eyes. _I love him. It's that simple, yet that complicated. I love him, and that's all I need._

                She ran back to her table as soon as the audience applauded for all the girls. Arnold was waiting for her. "Congratulations, Miss Sorta Hillwood."

                Her smile was a mile wide. "Thank you." She covered her face. "I can't believe he said that."

                "Yes, you can."

                She laughed. "Yes, I can."

                He grabbed her hand. "C'mon, let's dance."

                She made a face. "You want to ballroom dance?" The mini-orchestra began playing a waltz.

                He smiled and pulled her out to the floor. "It's not the tango, so I promise you will be okay."

                She eyed him carefully as they danced. "You're up to something."

                "I have to be up to something to want to dance with my beautiful best friend?"

                "Arnold."

                He sighed. "Well, don't be mad at me, but—"

                "But what?" She stopped dancing. "Arnold, what did you do?"

                "Well, I know the guy who leads the band-thingy from the pageant, and it turns out that his son is a big punk rock fan and has a band and they're actually here tonight. Over there." He pointed across the room.

                "Spit it out, Football head," Helga demanded.

                "So he knows some songs, and I talked him into letting his kid play, you know, since the whole things really for a bunch of high schoolers, not a bunch of stuffy socialites, so he agreed to do me a favor." He grinned at her.

                She stood still as the waltz ended and an electric guitar began to fill the air. "Arnold!" she cried before putting her arms around him.

                He laughed slightly as he put his arms tightly around her small waist. "I figured what fun is a old-fashioned ball without a little Bowling for Soup?"

                She leaned her head against his as the boy began to sing.

_Sail away, sail away with me_

_I don't have a ship_

_But we could get one easily_

_Drift away, drift away with me_

_On the raft we'll make of memories_

_In an ocean we can call forever more_

_I want to find_

_A piece of your mind_

_I want to see_

_Your make-believe_

_I don't want to try so hard_

_I make it hard for you to breathe_

_Jump into the ocean, living on a notion_

_If you're caught up in the motion_

_Back track and do it again_

_And if you make it up _

_I could never get enough_

_Me and you together _

_But you gotta tell me where to begin_

_Break away, break away from me_

_No forget that, just sit here and look at me_

_Summer's day_

_Summer every day_

_And we watch the sunset come back up_

_And we know it's never going down again_

_I want to find_

_A piece of your mind_

_I want to see_

_Your make-believe_

_I don't want to try so hard_

_I make it hard for you to breathe_

_Jump into the ocean, living on a notion_

_If you're caught up in the motion_

_Back track and do it again_

_And if you make it up I could never get enough_

_Me and you together _

_But you gotta tell me where to begin_

_I've been saving up to buy more time with you._

_You've been living it up with someone else, and that's okay_

_Because I know it and you know it too_

_Jump into the ocean, living on a notion_

_If you're caught up in the motion_

_Back track and do it again_

_And if you make it up I could never get enough_

_Me and you together _

_But you gotta tell me where to begin_

                Helga moaned slightly. "I can't believe you did this. Arnold!" she squealed.

                He laughed. "You're welcome."

                She hugged him tightly. "Oh, damn."

                He pulled away to look at her. "What?"

                "Samson wants me to come talk to people."

                "So don't go. Pretend you didn't see him." He spun her around. "Simple as that."

                "No, he's coming over here, and I have to. He was too nice earlier." She kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be back, okay?"

                "Alright." He tapped his foot to the Frank Sinatra song as he looked for one of the girls from the show to dance with. He spotted Kathryn, but a small, shy voice called from behind him. "Arnold?"

                He turned around, surprised to see Lila Sawyer standing behind him. She looked almost scared of him. "Lila?"

                "May I have this dance?" she asked. Her skin was pale, and he was afraid she was about to pass out.

                He reluctantly put his arms around her (with a comfortable distance between the two of them). He was desperately hoping that Helga was not watching him. She would be furious.

                "Arnold, I've been meaning to talk to you."

                "Oh, really?" He searched the crowd for Helga.

                "I, um, I have some things I wanted to tell you." She chewed her lip. "Arnold, I'm in love with you," she blurted out.

                Arnold snapped his head back to look down at her. "What?"

                She swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "I'm in love with you, Arnold. I—I know it's terrible timing and you probably hate me, but I do. I love you." She fought back tears. "I know I've been ever so terrible these past few years, but you've always been there for me, always so ready to see the good in me. And I know I can change, Arnold, I can, I can! I can be the little girl that you liked ever so much when we were younger. I'm still her! I know am!" Tears were now flowing freely down her face. "I know I've made so many terrible mistakes, but I'm ready to be a good person again, and I need you to help me, Arnold, like you have before. I—I, oh Arnold!" She pulled her lips up to his, and Arnold found himself finally kissing Lila Sawyer.

¤ -¤ - ¤

                "Oh, thank you. I really was terrified through the whole thing." Helga said to a crowd of forty-something Hillwood socialites. She was quite tired of shooting the bull with Samson and his friends. _How much longer is this going to take? I want to get back to Arnold._ She looked around for him. He was not at their table, so she guessed he was dancing with one of the girls. She skimmed the mess of people on the dance floor, looking for that one-of-a-kind football head. "There he is," she muttered to herself as she spotted him….

                Her blood went cold, and she felt her world crash around her.

                Arnold was kissing Lila.

A/N: One more chapter to go.


	30. The Beginning

A/N: The last chapter. Thank you to everyone who has been so patient throughout the whole thing. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed, and I hope this is better than what you expected and worth the wait.

Disclaimer – I do not own _Hey Arnold!_

Where to Begin

Chapter 30 – The Beginning

            Helga felt her heart break in half. She was in a daze as she thanked Samson, the board of directors, Mrs. Chadwick, and who else she was talking to. She quickly got ready to leave. She had to flee. She couldn't bear to watch her worst nightmare unfold in front of her eyes.

            "Helga, where are you going?"

            Helga turned around from the chair where her purse hung. Josh was talking to her, Callie at his side, but his voice sounded far away, as if in a tunnel. "I have to go," she managed to respond in a voice unlike her own. She turned to leave.

            Both Josh and Callie grabbed her. "What? Why?" Callie demanded.

            "Where's Arnold?" Josh was watching her carefully.

            "I don't care! Please, I have to go!" She shoved them away from her and ran out of the room.

            "Helga!" Callie cried, but Josh held her back. "Josh, what the hell are you doing? We have to stop her!"

            "_We_ can't do anything until we have answers," Josh said lowly, pointing to the dance floor. Arnold and Lila were holding hands and looking deeply at each other.

            Callie looked quickly from Josh to Arnold. "What is he doing? He's messing everything up!"

            "Probably for good this time," Josh whispered.

 ¤ -¤ - ¤

            Arnold could not breathe, even as he pulled away from Lila. He searched her blue eyes for answers, amazed at the way she was looking at him. Her pretty face was so open, so honest, so full of emotion. It was so unlike her to be so genuine. She was so beautiful.

            _'Cause you're beautiful just not on the inside…_

His eyes narrowed. "Why the hell did you do that?" he demanded.

            Lila looked on the verge of an emotional breakdown. He guessed she was scared to death of what his reaction would be, and now that she knew it was anger she was terrified. Sure enough, her blue eyes filled up with tears. "Arnold, I mean it. I love you," she whispered, her voice shaking. She tightened her slim arms around his neck.

            "You don't know what love is!" he snapped. He was tired of her games, tired of her getting in the way of what he wanted.

            "Yes, yes I do! Arnold, I love you with every bone in my body! You are the only one who's ever cared, really cared, about me. Arnold, you have to believe me. You just have to!"

            She was becoming desperate. Mascara ran down her face with fresh tears. Arnold removed her arms from around him. "I'm sorry to hear that, Lila, I really am, but I love someone else."

            The blood drained from her face, leaving it chalk white, her freckles vibrantly appearing against her paling skin. "Who?"

            Arnold smiled at the thought of the girl in the pink dress. "Helga," he said, his voice trailing off as he moved into his own world.

            "No!" she cried, as if his answer was the end of her life. "No, not her! I won't lose someone else to her!" Lila threw herself at Arnold and began pounding her small fists into his chest.

            Arnold grabbed her hands and shook her slightly. "Lila, stop!" He sighed. "Lila, it can never work between us. You don't love me, you love the idea of me because through everything I've managed to still treat you like a human being and with some respect, which is more than you deserve. You don't even know anything about me anymore."

            She choked back tears. "I know I love you, and I know I can change! I promise!"

            Arnold bit his lip. She was shaking in his grip. "But it won't change me, Lila," he whispered. "I'm glad you want to change, but do it for yourself, not for me, Lila." _Because I really don't give a damn anymore._

She looked away and wiped her eyes. She took a deep breath. "So that's it. There's nothing I can do?"

            "No."

            Arnold felt Lila's knees weaken. He tightened his hold on her. "Lila, if you ever need someone, I'll be there for you like I always have, and I'm sure you can change, but I love Helga."

            She pulled away from him. "I'm sorry, Arnold. I'm just sorry."

            Arnold had a feeling she was saying it more to herself than to him. He let her go, emotional mess and all. He had no desire to be with her a minute longer. He wanted Helga.

            Arnold quickly walked over to his table when he saw that Helga was no longer talking to Samson and his group. Callie and Josh were sitting silently with their backs to him. Arnold flung himself into a chair. "You guys will never guess what just happened." He paused. "Where's Helga?"

            "She left," Callie said without turning around.

            "WHAT?" Arnold leapt out of his chair. "When? Why? Why did you let her go? _Would you please look at me?"_

"A few minutes ago. She saw you and did not like what she saw." Josh refused to look at Arnold as well.

            "She saw me and Lila kiss?"

            "_You kissed Lila?_" Josh and Callie cried, finally turning to stare with their mouths open at him.

            "She kissed me!" Arnold cried defensively. "I was dancing with her and she stared going on and on about how she was in love with me and than she kissed me!"

            "What were you even doing by her, Arnold? That girl's poison!" Callie thundered.

            "I was trying to be nice. She looked so pathetic and alone. I felt bad. I never imagined she'd to that!"

            "So you didn't kiss her, she kissed you?" Josh asked.

            "Right!"

            "Then what are you waiting for? Go after her!" Josh cried.

            "Right!" Arnold quickly ran out of the room. _I just hope I'm not too late._

¤ -¤ - ¤

            Helga wiped a tear from her cheek as she slowly walked down the stairs of the Women's Club. _I'm such a fool. How could I believe he'd ever get over her?_ She kicked a pebble out of frustration. She wiped her face again, only to realize it was not just wet from crying. She looked up into the night sky only to be met with cold rain. _Great. My happily ever after._ She started home, although it was several blocks away, as the rain began to fall harder.

            "Helga! HELGA!"

            "Damn," she muttered as she stepped into a puddle, scared half to death from Arnold's yelling. "Go away, Arnold. Lila might miss you." She began walking again.

            "Hegla! HEL—"

            Arnold slipped, running into her from behind, causing them both to fall forward. He quickly sprung to his feet, helping her up as soon as he was up. "Thanks," she muttered before leaving.

            "Helga!"

            She ignored him and fresh tears began falling down her face. _Just let me go!_

            "She kissed me!"

            Helga stopped and turned around. Arnold was ten feet behind her, his white shirt sticking to his chest, dotted with mud. She imagined she did not look much better. "What?"

            He walked to her. "She kissed me."

            Her reaction looked as if he hit her. "So that makes it better? It didn't look like you were putting up much of a fight!"

            "She caught me by surprise."

            Helga threw her hands in the air. "Well, what a nice surprise," her voice cracked. "You finally got what you've always wanted. Excuse me, but what I want right now is to go home." She turned and began walking with difficulty. She could feel a huge bruise begin to form on her thigh.

            "I don't give a damn about her, Helga. I don't want Lila. I don't want to kiss her, touch her, nothing."

            Helga continued walking.

            "I don't give a damn about her because I love you."

            For the second time in minutes Helga's heart stopped. She walked back to him, barely able to see anything in the blinding rain. "What?"

            Arnold smiled weakly. "I love you, Helga. I love every crazy thing about you. I can't be without you, and I don't want to be. When I'm not with you, I can't think of anything but you. When I'm with you, all I want to do is hold you and tell you how much I love you." He wiped away the tears and the rain from her face. "Helga, you're everything to me."

            Helga stared blankly at him. "But...but how can I trust you?"

            "Have I ever given you a reason not to?" he asked as he lowered his lips to hers.

            Helga quickly pulled away. "But what about Lila?"

            His face was still only inches from hers. She could see the raindrops stuck to his eyelashes. He pulled her even closer to him. "Forget Lila. Forget Jake. That's over.  All that matters is I love you and I always will." His smile grew. "I know you hate promises, but I won't break that one. I don't know why I'd ever want to."

            She stared into his eyes, so open and loving, before breaking down completely. "Arnold! I love you, too! I have since we were three since I first saw you and your stupid football head and you told me you liked my bow. Oh God, why'd you think I wore it for so long? Even when I was with Jake I loved you! Oh, Arnold!" She hugged him tightly. "I love you! I love you! I love you!"

            "I know, Helga. I know." He pulled away and pulled a strand of hair away from her face. "I love you, and you love me."

            She sniffed. "Now what?"

            He grinned. "Now I have you all to myself." He pulled her lips to his, kissing her with more passion than he imagined he had. Helga's knees went weak, but she knew she was finally safe, and finally happy.

¤ -¤ - ¤

            "Well, have you ever seen a more perfect sight?" Callie asked as she, Gerald, Josh, and Callie gazed down at Helga and Arnold kissing under a streetlight in the rain.

            "True love's first, well, first official, everyone knows what's going on and wants to and is able to, kiss," Phoebe said, smiling as Gerald held her.

            "It's about time," Josh added, grinning.

            "Lord, they'll be doing this all the time," Gerald groaned.

            Down below, Arnold and Helga were oblivious to the rest of the world. They had each other, and that was more than enough.

A/N: Later days.


End file.
